


The Flower Cam

by Underneath



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cameos of Matt Murdoch, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jessica Jones - Freeform, Marci Stahl - Freeform, claire temple - Freeform, the camera aimed at Karen's windowsill so Frank could see the white roses... what if Karen found it?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-07 13:36:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19210519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Underneath/pseuds/Underneath
Summary: It had been a long time since there had actually been any flowers in the window. She must have trashed the white roses after his latest bullshit at the hospital with Madani and the kid.Good. Good for her.She should forget about him.But still… Frank couldn’t help but check every once in a while.





	1. Chapter 1

_Hell._

Frank kicked off his boots and all but limped to his fridge to grab a beer. He’d spent all night in the cold, crouched on a rooftop, waiting for a sign of the gang he was on the tail of. His back and his knees were killing him. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

He took a swig of his beer and ran through his normal routine before clocking out. It was 8am. Bedtime for Frank, who was essentially nocturnal now. He rotated his shoulder on his way over to his desk, wincing at the burn of stiffness in his muscles.

Frank tapped his keyboard and the screens of his work station came to life. No new messages from David. Or Madani. That was good. No news is usually good news. He checked all the alarms and security feeds for this apartment and the few other locations around town that he kept his eye on. All clear.

Before he turned to walk away, Frank hesitated. There was one last feed he wanted to check. He couldn’t kick the habit, even after all this time.

Frank clicked over to the camera feed of Karen’s window sill, the Flower Cam, as David called it.  

It had been a long time since there had actually been any flowers in the window. She must have trashed the white roses after his latest bullshit at the hospital with Madani and the kid.

_Good. Good for her_.

She should forget about him.

But still… Frank couldn’t help but check every once in a while.

The feed popped up on his monitor, and Frank’s heart jumped up into this throat.

_Shit._

The camera was moved. He didn’t know where it was, but instead of Karen’s empty window sill, he saw an index card propped up in front of the lens. It read,

 

_**Who is this?** _

_**Call me.** _

 

_Hell._

She found it.

Frank squinted at his monitor, unsure of the best move now.  If he called, she’d probably be furious, like he was some creep spying on her. Besides, calling now would just reconnect them after he’d already cut her loose. He’d told her to stay away, _again_. And she’d listened. Any contact with him would only be dangerous for her.

Then again…

Thanks to David, Frank had finally heard about everything that had gone down while he was away. The whole mess with Karen and Red, the fake Daredevil, and Fisk. He’d been sick about it. Almost drove straight to her place to make sure she was ok. To touch her, and see her, and make 100% sure. But Frank stopped himself because he already knew she was ok. Red had taken care of her. No, _she_ had taken care of _herself._ She didn’t need Frank coming over and barging into her life again. It was too little too late anyway.

After surviving all of that… finding a camera pointed at her window was probably something to worry about.

Frank sighed.

He didn’t want Karen to be scared that someone was watching her, or that anybody was out to get her. He should call her, and explain, and take whatever hellfire she poured out on him if she was really pissed off.

He downed the rest of his beer and considered having another one before making the call, but shook his head. He had to face her. She deserved better.

Frank lowered himself to his chair and pulled up her number on his phone. That took all of 2 seconds. There were only 6 numbers in it. He pressed his finger to her name...

“Karen Page.” She answered, all business. It made him smile.

“... Hey, Karen.”

She paused for so long he almost thought she hung up.

“Frank?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for calling. I- I just wanted to explain... about the camera-”

“Oh, thank god.” She cut him off, her breath whooshing out of her. “When I saw that camera I thought…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. He knew what she’d thought. Maybe Fisk was keeping an eye on her, maybe someone else was. She’d been scared.

“You thought someone was out to get you?”

She sighed. “Something like that.”

Frank shook his head, agitated.

“So, you think someone’s coming after you, spying on you, and your first instinct is asking them to call you? Are you crazy, Karen?”

“ _Hey_ \- you don’t get to call me crazy.” She snapped, and there was venom in her voice.

She took a breath, probably biting back a tirade that he totally had coming. She let the breath out slow.

“So, what’s the camera about? You send me away- you don’t want me in your life- but then you have a camera pointed at my window? What the hell, Frank?”

Always calling him on his bullshit. He winced.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about it. Leiberman installed it so I could see the flowers.” His voice was low, grovelling. “I- I could only see the windowsill… nothing else."

“Could you hear me, too?”

“No- I swear.” God, he felt like a stalker. “It was just video, no audio.”

“Do you check it… frequently?”

“... Kinda.” Frank was so glad he was alone right now, he’d never blushed this bad in his entire life.

She paused for a long time. He would have paid a million dollars to know what she was thinking as those long moments stretched out. Would have spent the whole wad David gavehim.

“Ok.”

...what?

“Ok?”

She gave a pained sort of laugh, and he could tell she was rolling her eyes at him.

“Well, I have to say- I’m relieved there isn’t someone after me. And I guess it’s kind of nice to know you look out for me.” Her voice changed. “Even if you…”

_Don’t say it, Karen._

“...don’t want to.”

_Jesus_. He hurt her. He knew it. It was like a knife in the gut. And he really meant that. Because he’d actually taken a knife in the gut.

“Karen…” He exhaled, not even knowing where to start.

“Its ok, Frank. I understand.”

He didn’t think she did. But if she was willing to let him off the hook from trying to explain it all, he was going to let her.

“So, how are you?” She asked, and he could tell that she was actually worried about him. And he hated it.

And he loved it.

“I’m alright, Karen. I’m doing what I need to do.”

“Ok.”

She wasn’t going to fight him on that anymore. _Good._

“You staying outta trouble?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

She laughed. “Trying my best. But I’m not running from it if it finds me.”

He shook his head. “Too brave for your own damn good. Stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk,” she countered.

If he could see her right now, he was sure they’d both have the same shitty grin. He heard some background noise.

“My client is here, I gotta go,” she said, quietly.

Frank felt a let down in his chest. Over to soon. Like always.

“Frank, is this your real number? Or is this like a burner phone that will never call me again?”

He paused. He _should_ never call her again. He should leave her alone. But…

“This is my number.”

“Ok.”

Then she hung up.

 

\--

  

About a week later Frank was sitting down at his computer, finally responding to a couple of emails from Madani. Hopefully that would get her off his back for a little while.

When he finished with that, he started his normal routine, checking to see if David had sent him anything, flicking through all of his surveillance feeds… and he couldn’t help it. He clicked on the Flower Cam out of habit. He expected to see a blank screen, or maybe the inside of her trash can. But that’s not what he saw.

Frank’s stomach flipped. It was like he was standing right there in her apartment.

He could see her entire living room and kitchen. It was just like he remembered it. The low lamp lighting, the little fridge where she’d gotten him a beer, her table, her couch… She must have set the camera on her bookshelf. She had to have done it on purpose- it was too perfect.

Frank stared at the screen, eyes wide. _Why? Why had she done it?_ Why would she want him to be able to see-

There she was.

She walked right into the living room from somewhere he couldn’t see… maybe her bedroom or bathroom. She was on the phone, looking frustrated, raking her fingers through her blonde locks in a way that was so classic _her_ . He stared. He watched her pace. Making circles around her kitchen gesturing, occasionally stopping to write something down in a notebook on her kitchen table. He couldn’t look away. It felt so good just to see her. To know she was ok. To just watch her being _Karen_.

For the first time in who the hell knows how long, Frank found himself just sitting and smiling.

When she finally hung up, Karen stood in her kitchen for a while, scribbling rapidly in her notebook. Then, she shook out her hair and wandered off the screen and didn’t return.

After a while, Frank turned off his computer and sat back in his chair. He had no idea what to think. Why had she set up the camera in her house? She knew he would check. He could see her.

He couldn’t figure it out. And was too exhausted to keep trying.

Frank couldn’t sleep though. He laid in bed shaking his head, thinking about all of the ball busting, half-crazy women in his life, and how none of them could surprise him and wind him up as much as Karen Page.

 

\--

 

Frank thought about Karen the whole next day.

He made some food and stared at his blank computer screen, willing himself not to go check. _Don’t do it, man. Don’t think about it. Don’t hope for it._ Half way through his sandwich he caught himself twitching, eyes darting towards his desk for the 100th time, and he just gave up.

“Goddammit.”

He rolled his chair over to the desk and brought all the monitors to life. He stretched his neck from side to side, feeling his nose twitch and his heart rate speed up. Half of him really hoped the screen would turn up blank.

Half of him _really_ hoped it wouldn’t.

It didn’t.

There she was again. Her head thrown back, laughing.

Frank felt a small charge up his spine. _Hey, Karen._

He’d seen her smile a few times. He might have managed to make her chuckle once or twice. But he’d never seen her like this. Eyes glittering, smiling wide, laughing out loud… well, he imagined it was out loud. He wished he could hear her.

There were two other women in Karen’s living room. One was blonde, a total uptown business woman type. The other was exotic, wearing scrubs.

All three were drinking wine, and Frank could see the matching color in Karen’s red smile.

_God._ He always knew it, but never really allowed himself to think about it… Karen was beautiful.

He watched her. Taking in the way she moved.

All three women were leaning toward each other, talking a mile a minute, and making each other laugh. It was amazing to see her so happy. _This_ is why he stayed away from her… so she could have moments like this.

Another woman emerged from off the side of the screen. She had jet black hair and wasn’t drinking wine, she was taking a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle. She looked familiar.

Frank’s jaw dropped. That was Jessica Jones. _Karen was friends with Jessica fucking Jones?_

He shook his head.

_Was there any shit magnet in New York that Karen wasn’t friends with?_

Dammit- it wasn’t safe for her to be around these people. He slumped back in his chair. Frank, Red, Jones… they were trouble. They would bring shit to her doorstep without even trying. Why couldn’t she see that?

But as he watched Karen grab Jones’ knee and whisper something in her ear that made her grin and the other blonde whip a pillow at their heads, Frank knew better. Karen understood. She was fully aware of the risks she took having these people in her life. She was all heart, and so damn brave. She was loyal to the people she cared about, whether they were dangerous or not.

Frank closed his eyes, remembering.

_It doesn’t change the way I feel about you…_

_It should._

_It doesn’t._

He’d hated it when she said that.

And he’d loved it.

She’d laid it all out for him, there, in that hospital room. And he’d sent her away. Told her he didn’t want it.

He didn’t. _Right?_

He had business.

Speaking of… he looked at his watch. It was almost 11pm. Time to go to work.

He watched Karen smile for a little longer. It was good to see her. Really good.

“‘Bye, Karen,” and he turned off the screen.

 

\--

 

A few days later Frank was fighting with himself not to check the camera again. He felt like a creep. Which was unfair because she obviously put the camera there on purpose… but he still felt like a creep.

He had a new found empathy for David and how he’d spent hours glued to his monitors, watching his family. Now Frank knew, if he’d been able to watch his family, to be with them even from afar… he’d have wasted away in front of those screens. Would have forgotten to eat and sleep.

The urge to check in on Karen was similar, except it came loaded with guilt from wanting to spend time with her after he’d pushed her away, and confusion about why she’d let him in her house like this in the first place.

He tried to ignore the pull, but after two beers and dozen or so twitchy glances towards his desk, he couldn’t take it anymore. He fired up his computer and clicked over to the Flower Cam.

And instantly felt better.

This was a new look. Karen was in leggings and a big tee shirt, hair up in a messy bun, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Barefoot. Frank huffed a laugh. _Goddamn adorable._

She had her computer open on her lap and was focused on the screen. Every once in a while she’d lean over and scribble something down in her notepad on the couch next to her. She was so focused. Frank remembered her like this. When she’d sat with him in his goddamn jail cell and gone over every single detail of his case, searching for the truth, for something that had been missed. She’d been consumed. Driven to help him, for reasons he still couldn’t understand. He remembered how her sky blue eyes had been on fire, how they’d given him hope. Her eyes looked the same now, and he wondered what poor bastard was out there tonight, with hope kindling in their chest because Karen Page was on their side.

Frank kept watching her, hypnotized. The longer he watched, the lonlier he felt. He wouldn’t have named this feeling ‘loneliness’ before she’d called him on it that night at the river, but now he knew. She was right. He was lonely. He had no one. Everyone was gone. Or he’d pushed them away. He wished he could talk to someone who actually knew him- just for a little while...

He was dialing her number before he’d consciously made the decision to call.

It was surreal, watching her pick up her phone, watching her eyes go wide at the number on her screen. Karen’s eyes darted to the camera as she answered.

“Frank?”

“Hey, Karen.”

“Um- hi. Are you… okay?”

She looked concerned. He loved that he could actually see her face.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just watching the latest episode of ‘The Karen Page Show’.”

She laughed.

“Pretty exciting stuff, huh?” She gestured around her sleepy, darkened apartment. “What _will_ she get up to next?”

Frank laughed along with her. It was like he was right there with her. It felt good. Too good. He shouldn’t be calling her like this…

“Why did you put the camera up? Why didn’t you just throw it away?”

The laughter and light fell from her eyes and he regretted it, but he had to know. _Why did she do it?_

“I _was_ going to throw it out.” She said, as she closed her computer and set it aside.  “I’m not going to put flowers in the window. Ever.”

She looked straight into the camera. He understood what she was saying. She was just as stubborn as him. If he was going to tell her to stay away from him for _her_ own safety, she wasn’t about to reach out to him for help if she was in trouble. She wanted to protect him, to keep him out of her problems.

That irked him. A lot.

But arguing with her about it would get him nowhere. She had brass balls and she wasn’t going to take his shit. She _had_ him.

“Why didn’t you throw it out, Karen?”

She sighed.

“I don’t know.” She crossed her legs, curling in on herself a little. “It just felt like, if I threw that camera away, you’d be gone. It felt like I’d never see you again. And I just couldn’t.”

Frank’s chest ached for a second. Ached in a way that was starting to become familiar to him whenever he thought of Karen. She really did care about him. After all of it. He didn’t know how to feel about that. He couldn’t afford to analyze it. Not now.

“You should toss it, Karen. Throw it out.” He said, to himself just as much as to her. “Any connection to me is dangerous. You know this.”

She glared at the camera.

“How is this a connection to you? If anyone ever found the camera, they’d have no idea who was watching the feed. They couldn’t trace it back to you.”

“Maybe they could. You never know-”

“ _Bullshit._ ” Her fingers were raking through her hair, making a fist. She was pissed. “I’m not throwing the camera away. I’m not throwing _you_ away. You aren’t going to put that on me, Frank. I’m not going to be the one who cuts you off. Do you know why?”

She leaned forward, brow furrowed. Just like the first time he’d met her in that hospital room, when she’d stepped over that red line.

“Because I care about you, you jackass! I want to be there if you need help! Or if you just need... a friend.”

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Listen, if you don’t want me in your life, then don’t check the camera. Don’t check in on me. Don’t call. But that’s on you- not me.”

Frank felt 2 inches tall. Annihilated.

“Ok. Ok. I’m sorry.” He whispered, not 100% sure what he was even apologizing for, but just… sorry.

“You should be.” She said, glaring off to the side, refusing to look at the camera.

“I am.”

“Good.” She was pouting now.

“You called me a jackass.”

She grinned and finally looked into the camera again.

“You _are_ a jackass.”

“Fair enough.” He agreed.

Out of nowhere, Frank found himself playing with her, flexing muscles inside himself that hadn’t been used in a long time. He knew how to do this, how to get a girl to smile at him even while she was furious with him. He’d done this with Maria a thousand times. She’d be mad as hell, looking ready to clock him right in the face, and he could just turn it on. A little self deprecation, a little flattery and charm, and he’d earn himself a smile. More often than not he’d earn himself more than a smile… he’d make her laugh, and soon enough they’d find themselves in bed, sweating and straining together as the games ended and only the truth was left.

Strangely, these memories didn’t drown him like they normally would. Not while he talked to Karen. They were nice.

He was having fun riling Karen up, watching her emotions play across her face. Right when he would get her to a place where she was all softened up, smiling so sweet, he’d say something that would annoy the shit out of her. He’d wait for her to scowl at the camera and he couldn’t help it, he’d have to laugh. Like clockwork, the sound of his laughing would bring her back around, and he’d find her smiling at him again. He didn’t want the conversation to end. He asked her what she was working on, and how things were at the office with Murdock and the other one. And if she missed working at the paper. And how the hell she was friends with Jessica Jones.

It was the longest he’d talked to anyone in months. And his loneliness didn’t feel endless, or echoing, by the time they hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

His work never stopped. There was too much filth in the city. Too many animals that needed to be put down.

Sometimes this depressed Frank. Sometimes it made him feel like nothing he did mattered, like it was all a joke, and he could barely get out of bed.

Other times… well, other times in the darkest corner of his mind, he was grateful. Glad there was a never ending supply of scumbags to take out, to feed the need he had inside him to punish, to destroy. He hated that part of himself, but didn’t deny it any more.

So, Frank focused. He did his share. They all had a part to play as far as he was concerned. The cops did what they could. Karen worked for justice within the system, above reproach. Red had his own shit going on and his own set of rules. And when all else failed, there was Frank. The Punisher. To end it.

But Frank wasn’t ending anything tonight. He was staying home to recover. Last night had been a shit show. He’d planned on a simple operation. He’d infiltrate a meeting at the docks between 3 weapons dealers, take them out real quick- boom, boom, boom. Be home before 2am.

Unfortunately, there had been a dozen guys instead of 3, and he’d taken a hell of a beating before he finally managed to escape by jumping out a window.

Tonight all Frank would be doing is sitting in his chair, nursing his recently reset shoulder. Typically, Frank would have been fuming. Pissed at himself for getting ambushed. Furious at the thought of all of those weapons that had now made their way into his city. But it was hard to maintain fury when he had the option to click on the Flower Cam and check out whatever was happening on ‘The Karen Page Show’.

As weeks passed, he’d long gotten over the feeling that he was a creep or a stalker for checking in on her. Hell, she’d put up the camera. She’d refused to take it down when he’d asked her. And goddammit- it was good to see her.

He didn’t really get to see her all that often. They had essentially opposite schedules, and she worked way too much. But by now Frank had a pretty good lock on the right times in the mornings or evenings when he could catch a glimpse of her. So, a few times a week he’d click the camera on and he’d see she was ok. It made him feel better.

She was almost always working, her eyes riveted to her computer screen. They had that in common; a moment not spent pursuing a cause, was a moment wasted. But sometimes she had a friend over, or read a book. Frank wondered what she liked to read. From what he could see, she didn’t have a TV. Another thing they had in common.

Karen almost always ignored the camera. Sometimes Frank wondered if she even forgot it was there. But every once in a while she’d look straight into it. It jolted him every time. Like she could feel him watching her. Or, even better, like maybe she was thinking about him, hoping he was watching her. That thought made his pulse thump and he didn’t want to over think why.

He’d called her again a couple of weeks ago.

A showdown with a gang had gotten a little more media attention than he would have liked. He knew anyone paying attention would recognize it as his work. So, Frank had to lay low for a while. A few days later when he checked the Flower Cam, he’d seen a new note on an index card:

 

**PLEASE let me know if you are ok.**

 

He called her right away. She was at work and had to speak in whispers, but it was clear that she had been upset. Really worried about him, on the verge of tears. That same spot in Frank’s chest prickled with pain. He hated that she worried about him like this.

And he loved it.

He assured her that he was ok and that he would be staying out of sight for a while. The obvious relief in her voice made him want to hold her. He shook himself. He shouldn’t think about shit like that.

Anyway.

Tonight, Frank clicked on the camera to a new sight. Karen, in her kitchen with a bunch of groceries. The look on her face was priceless, like the vegetables were holding her hostage.

In all this time, he’d never seen Karen cook even once. She seemed to live on coffee and take-out. But here she was, produce spread out over her kitchen counter, holding a knife vaguely in the air, looking more intimidated by a pile of tomatoes than she had been when she faced The Punisher for the first time. After letting the knife hover over the vegetables for a while, she finally just set it down, shook her head, and poured herself a large glass of wine.

Frank grinned.

He was going to be stuck at home for days with all of the recuperation he had to do. Why not entertain himself while he had the chance? He picked up his phone and called her.

Again, it was a slightly surreal, watching her pick up her phone and smile at his number. Her glance darting to the camera as she answered. She was rolling her eyes.

“Are you laughing at me?” She answered.

Frank bit the inside of his cheek, fighting against the laughter she was accusing him of.

“Not laughing at you, Ma’am. Just happy to know that there is actually something in the world that scares you. You’re human after all.”

“Ha, ha.” She said sarcastically, but she was smiling at the camera. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I know nothing- like ZERO- about cooking. But one of our clients brought us some fresh noodles today. She’s this sweet old lady, and she can’t really pay for our help so… well, anyway. Look at these!”

Karen carefully scooped up the pile of long fragile noodles and draped them over her arms, tilting them towards the camera so Frank could see. He smiled. His grandma used to make noodles just like that. He hadn’t thought about that in a long, long time.

“Those look better than any paycheck,” he said.

She laughed.

“I know! So I thought, if I have fresh noodles, I should make fresh sauce. And I bought all the stuff she told me to buy,” Karen looked around at the herbs and tomatoes spread all over her countertop, “but I have no idea what to do with them.”

The little lost look on her face was so damn cute, Frank bit his lip to hide his grin even though she couldn’t see him.

“Well, if it’s just fresh sauce you’re looking to make, I can help you out there.”

Karen’s eye popped wide. _So goddamn cute._

“Really?”

“Hell yeah,” Frank huffed, “I got Gramma’s recipe locked and loaded.”

And just like that, he was walking her through the recipe. First, cutting the noodles to length. Then, chopping the tomatoes, garlic, and herbs. Reducing them all over the stove.

Frank relaxed, sank back into his chair, and watched her do everything he said. They laughed together when she did something wrong, and laughed even harder when she got overly excited that she did something right. This was the most human he’d felt in years. The Punisher was nowhere in sight. He was just Frank talking with his friend on the phone. Frank flirting with a girl.

That’s what they were doing, though he doubted either of them would admit to it. He was teasing her, and she’d blush and tease him right back. They were laughing on the phone together, wasting time. Every time he made Karen blush, Frank got a little warmer. He wanted to keep up the game, to keep telling her what to do and watch her follow along.

When the sauce was nearly done, he had her taste and see if it needed more salt or pepper. He tried to ignore the feeling he got in his stomach as he watched her drag the spoon from her mouth, as he watched her lick her lips. She took a sip of her wine and he watched her throat work.

“What are you drinking?” He asked, to break the tension he was sure only he felt.

She grabbed the bottle and read the label. “A cabernet.”

“Perfect. Add some of that into the sauce, you’ll love it.”

Karen’s eyes popped wide again, “What?”

He huffed a laugh.

“Trust me, add some in. Just a few splashes.”

Karen looked skeptical, but did as he said, stirred it in, and tried it.

She closed her eyes.

“Mmmm- _Frank_.”

_Goddamn._ Did she have to moan his name?

“It’s _so good._ ”

_Shit._ _Karen…_

“I told you.” He said, hoping he came off cocky, and not like the horny teenager he suddenly felt like. He was glad his damn voice didn’t crack.

“Mmmmm. It’s delicious. The best thing I’ve ever made.” She took another spoonful and he prayed she wouldn’t moan again. She didn’t.

It was worse. She just looked directly into the camera, smiling so sweet.

“Thank you, Frank.”

That ‘Karen’ spot in his chest ached.

“Any time, Karen.”

After they’d said goodbye, Frank was restless. Torn. On one hand, his head was clear, his heart was light. On the other hand, his body was all revved up, wanting… well, wanting lots of things that it wasn’t going to get.

 

\--

 

Frank berated himself the next day.

She shouldn’t have his number in her phone. He shouldn’t ever call her again. Turning on the camera now and then, getting a glimpse of her and knowing she was ok, should be enough. It would be. It had to be. He wouldn’t call any more. _Period_.

Of course, there were a few exceptions…  

When she and the lawyers had taken down a group of corrupt landlords in Hell’s Kitchen, he’d had to call and congratulate her. And the other time, when he’d had a close call with some crooked cops. It had gotten into the papers, and he’d called to let her know he was ok. That time they ended up talking almost all night. At the end, they were both tired, whispering into the phone. He watched her fall asleep on her couch almost immediately after they finally hung up. It was soothing. She was beautiful.

Those instances aside, he was strict with himself. The calls were too much. It brought him too close. So close it almost scared him sometimes. Checking the camera was ok though. The ‘Karen’ spot in his chest didn’t ache as much as long as he got to see her every so often. More and more often these days. But what was the harm in that?

Frank turned on his monitors and clicked to her camera. She wasn’t home. Weird. He felt disappointment deflate his lungs, but it wasn’t really a big deal. She was usually a creature of habit, but sometimes her schedule changed. Frank decided to leave the camera on and go about his business, he’d catch a glimpse of her whenever she got home.

He made some dinner. He cleaned his guns. He emailed Curtis, and David, and even Madani. He tried to read his book, but got no where. He couldn’t concentrate. It was almost 4am. Where was she? Was she ok? What if something had happened to her?

Frank’s blood started pumping. If anything happens to her…

He slammed his hand down on his desk. He wanted to gear up and head out into the night, to find her and pulverize whoever had dared to lay a hand on her. But where would he go? Where to look? Should he call Lieberman? Red? What the hell should he-

The lights flickered on in her apartment. Karen, looking tired but completely fine, kicked off her shoes and walked slowly across the screen and off the other side to what he now knew was her bedroom. The lights went off.

Frank scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned at himself. What the hell was wrong with him? She was fine. She was _fine_. Of course, she was. She could take care of herself. He had been ready to shed blood, to burn down the city for her… because what? Because the thought of her being in danger made him lose his fucking mind?

_Jesus, get it together, man._

He really had allowed himself to become way too attached to her. She made him irrational.

He shook his head. She probably just had to work late, or… Her hair had been in pretty waves and half pinned up. She had lipstick on.

Maybe she’d been on a date.

Frank took a few deep breaths to contemplate that one.

_Good. That’s good._

She should go on dates. Guys should be lining up around the block for a chance to be with a woman like her. Smart and good, sweet and brave, beautiful. Really beautiful.

But his stomach turned at the thought of her out all night with some faceless guy. Some asshole getting all of her smiles and blushes and glittering eyes. Some random guy touching her, maybe kissing her, making her moan- in an instant Frank’s mind conjured up Red with her, all over her… Frank squeezed his eyes shut, really not wanting to picture that.

He was being an asshole. She should have whoever she wants, Red, or anyone else. Frank refused to dwell on the fact that he, himself, had told her straight to her face that he didn’t want her. He’d been _right_ to do that. She deserved so much better. She shouldn’t wait around for him.

He didn’t wait, after all.

Frank didn’t often think about Beth, but she materialized in his mind’s eye now.

Beth had been… exactly what he needed. Well, more accurately, exactly what Pete needed.

Frank had been trying. Trying as hard as he could. He’d planned on never coming back to New York. He would never see Hell’s Kitchen, or the carousel, or Karen again. He was going to start over. He was going to _be Pete._

Pete stumbled across Beth, and she was just - perfect. Strong, and beautiful, and sad in a way that resonated with him down to his bones. Pete was lonely, and Beth made him feel welcome. It felt so nice, he had to try. And he’d enjoyed it.

That night with Beth, Pete felt real, and Frank felt like a memory, and the Punisher was just a bad dream. He’d thought about Maria in a bittersweet way, grieving her even as he indulged himself in a pleasure he was sure he didn’t deserve. He’d barely thought of Karen at all. She was a part of the Punisher’s world and didn’t exist in Pete’s.

Frank wondered now, if he had ever thought he’d see Karen again, would he have been able to be with Beth?

He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself. _Who fucking knows._

He was tired and should go to bed. He didn’t want to think about this any more.

He didn’t want to think about the fact that he had no right to be jealous of anything Karen did with any other guy. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he was jealous anyway. He didn’t want to think about the look on Karen’s face in the hospital when he told her he didn’t want her. He didn’t want to think about the fact that even though he felt like shit right now, and he was in this weird swirling emotional hell, he was still so glad she’d put up the camera in her house, and that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was safe and sound in bed right now.

 

\--

 

After that night, Frank doubled his efforts to distance himself from Karen. Not just for her safety, but for his own good. He shouldn’t get too attached to anyone. Always leads to trouble.

So, he didn’t call. At all. He limited himself to only checking the Flower Cam once a week. And life got a little more safe, a little more boring, a little less emotional. All was good.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it ran him over like road kill. Until it reminded him that no amount of “work”, or going to Curt’s group, or pretending he’s fine can change the fact that he had loved deeply and lost terribly and now he was horribly, achingly alone.

Today was the anniversary of it all; the day at the carousel, the day he lost everything. And the ring he wore on the chain around his neck felt like ice on his skin even as he stood under the warm stream of the shower, watching the water run off of him in red rivers that were slowly turning clear as blood circled down the drain.

Frank had felt only rage when he went out today. He hadn’t planned the way he normally would. He followed a whisper he’d heard about a big drug deal in a public park. Right in the middle of kids, and families, and innocent people who had no idea of the danger they were in. Frank hadn’t even used his guns. He took the guys out with his bare hands, one by one, before they even made it to the park.

Now, Frank’s knuckles were raw and his eyes were swollen and his rage was gone- replaced with a void, a void he felt like he could scream into until his vocal chords were shredded and he was coughing up blood, but no one would ever hear.

The shower was cold. Really cold.

How long had he been standing under the spray of freezing water? He had no idea. But he was shaking.

He got dressed and went to his computer like a zombie. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t even really think. He flicked over to the Flower Cam because he had to. He fucking needed her.

And there she was. Thank God.

She was in a very Karen Page-y outfit. A dark pencil skirt and a light blouse. The golden waves of her hair falling forward into her face until her fingers raked it back. She was reading and drinking tea. Frank watched, mesmerized, soothed by the motion of her steeping tea, up and down, up and down. Turning a page. And the next. And the next.

Frank had no idea how long he watched her.

After a while she closed the book, frowning. He could have swore her eyes flickered to the camera, but it was too quick to tell. She set her book aside and warmed her hands on her mug of tea. Still frowning. What was on her mind? He wished she would smile.

_What’s wrong, Karen?_

She frowned into her tea cup for a few more minutes and then picked up her phone. She was going to call someone.

A buzzing sound jolted Frank from his daze and he looked over to see his own phone vibrating across his desk.

Karen was calling him. _Why?_ She never called. He told her not to. She wasn’t in trouble- he could see her right there in her living room.

He answered. Couldn’t help himself.

“Karen?” His voice was wretched. Maybe he had been crying in the shower.

“Hey Frank, I’m sorry to call. I know you don’t want me to.”

Her voice was soft, and she got up to sit in a different chair. The one closest to the camera, where it felt like she was right there in the room with him.

“Its ok.” He said, and cleared his throat. “Everything alright?”

“Yes- definitely, everything is fine.” She nodded quickly. But then seemed a little shy, hesitant. Weird, Karen Page never held anything back with him.

“What is it, Karen?”

She cringed slightly, but didn’t look away.

“I don’t want to intrude or anything, but I haven’t heard from you in a while. And I know today is a hard day. So, I just wanted to check on you.”

She looked embarrassed. He barely noticed. He was too busy fighting down the lump in his throat and the tears seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere running down his face.

“How did you know?” He could barely get the words out.

The sound of his broken voice got her eyes welling up.

“Frank, I know every detail of your case. I know most of the details of your entire life.” She wiped a tear from her cheek quickly. “Saying that out loud makes me feel like a stalker.”

Frank’s laughter burst out through his tears and almost made him choke.

“Well, I can’t really call you a stalker when I’m looking at you from a spy camera that I put on your house.”

They both laughed through their tears. Frank couldn’t believe how even in a moment as shitty as this one, Karen could make him smile. She was a miracle.

As their laughter died, Karen leaned closer.

“Really though, Frank. How are you? Are you ok?”

He paused. Not really knowing where to start. But, at least he could be honest. It was Karen, after all.

“No. I’m not ok. I went out today… Lucky I made it home.” His throat constricted. He could barely get the words out. “I can’t- I can’t stop thinking about my babies. And Maria. She’s gone. They’re all gone. Like they never even existed. Everything in this city just kept going. Moved on. Except me. And I can’t. _I can’t._ ”

He was full on crying now. It was easy because she couldn’t see his face. He was a fucking mess. Karen was right there with him, her face looked agonized and tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked just like he remembered in the hospital when she held his hand. She held his hand tight so he wasn’t alone. And she wept for him. She cried for the family she’d never even known because she was good, and sweet, and all heart.

She sat silent on the other end of the phone until his breathing evened out. And then she started asking him questions. How old would Lisa have been today? What were Frankie’s hobbies? How did he meet Maria? What was their wedding like? Once Frank started talking, he just couldn’t stop. He could get like this sometimes. He’d start talking about his family, and he’d get on a roll, next thing he knew it was an hour later and all the rest of the Marines in camp were rolling their eyes and begging him to shut up. It always made him laugh. But Karen wasn’t telling him to shut up. She was curled up in her chair, listening. She laughed when he told a funny story and cried with him when he got emotional. She was right there with him. In it with him.

After a long time, it might have been hours, Frank was all talked out. He felt calm, almost renewed. The thought of thanking Karen was impossible. He was spent, and nothing he could say would be enough.

He was leaned back in his chair with one foot up on his desk, staring at her all cuddled up with a blanket and her phone, looking right back at him through the camera.

“Jesus Karen, I just talked your ear off. Now you really do know everything about me.”

She smiled.

“I’m glad. It’s good to get to know you better.”

Her voice was low and relaxed. Just listening to it was soothing. He wanted to hear more.

“Now we have to even the score a little. You know all about my family. Tell me about yours.” He said, looking forward to getting a glimpse into her life. He hadn’t realized it until just now, but he basically knew nothing about her past.

Her smile dimmed and she looked away. Frank froze, curious at the shuttered look on her face. He thought that for the first time, she might not tell him the truth.

“I don’t talk about my family much. It’s not a happy story.”

Frank lowered his foot from the desk and leaned forward.

“I’m not in the mood for a happy story.” He said, carefully. He suddenly needed to know her story. Desperately.

She looked hesitant. He almost thought she’d tell him no, but she didn’t. She was as brave as ever, slowly tip-toeing her way through her life story. How had he never noticed how private she was? How willing she was to dive into the deep end of other people’s lives, but only let people tread ankle deep in her own. Yet somehow, here she was, letting him in. She was trying so hard to open up. Trying for _him_. He was humbled by it, a little in awe of the honor.

She paused a lot during her story, seeming to chose her words carefully, or maybe it was just that she really never talked about herself and she was out of practice. Frank was riveted, hanging on every word. Some things she went into detail about, other things she painted in broad strokes. But he got it all, he could read what went unsaid in her long pauses, her pained eyes.

Her family was from Vermont. They’d run a diner. Her mom had been the bright sun at the center of their universe and when she died, the family had basically imploded. Karen’s dad sounded like an asshole. Her brother was a good kid. He had been precious to her, and his death, and all the circumstances surrounding it haunted her. He could see it now, in her tortured eyes. She condemned herself.

It killed him.

He never could have guessed, this angel, this beautiful, brave woman who dedicated all of her time and efforts to helping people, to seeking justice and making the city a better place, was just as haunted as him. She walked these streets in the shadow of guilt and grief and pain, just like him. No wonder she never judged him, never gave up on him.

There were new tears in his eyes now. He cried for her the way that she’d cried for him. They sat in the moment together, sharing their grief and soaking in the understanding and acceptance that they could only get from each other. And he resonated with her. And his heart felt like it was going to explode.

“I’m sorry, Karen.”

“I know.”

When they hung up the phone this time it was quiet, and secret, and soft. For the first time ever, Frank told her he’d call her later. He almost smacked himself as soon as the words popped out of his mouth, but the big smile on her face made it worth it. He’d do a lot more than promise to call her if it would earn him a few more of those smiles.

He watched her hang up the phone and uncurl from her chair. She gave a little wave to the camera and headed off screen, to bed.

Frank sat at his desk feeling like a wrung out rag.

He’d felt more emotions today than he’d felt in… who the hell knows. He wished he could say he was numb, that today had been too much, and he couldn’t feel anything anymore. He really wished that.

But he couldn’t say it. Because the ‘Karen’ spot in his chest was aching, throbbing with something he finally had to face.

Frank couldn’t believe it, but today of all days, he finally realized that he was in love with Karen Page.  


	3. Chapter 3

Frank Castle loved Karen Page. He loved her.

The ‘Karen’ spot in his chest was now a permanent ache. He thought about her, and missed her, and wanted her on a level that was way more than physical. He wanted everything about her; wanted her sweetness, wanted her strength, wanted her heart, her eyes, her smile… her lips. He wanted her on a level that was absolutely physical, too.

But Frank knew, no matter how much he wanted her, needed her, craved her - it changed nothing. The revelation that he was in love with Karen had made his world stop spinning and nearly brought him to his knees, but it didn’t change the fact that he was dangerous. That having anything to do with him would bring trouble her way. That she could and _should_ do so much better.

So, that was that. Nothing changed.

The Flower Cam had been up in Karen’s living room for almost 6 months and he’d only called her a hand full of times. That was _not_ going to change now. Not just because Frank missed her so bad it caused him physical pain. The calls were too much. He’d told himself that from the beginning, and now look where he was. Miserable.

Well, he was miserable anyway… but now his chest hurt.

As far as Karen knew, nothing had changed. What she didn’t know was that it took him maximum effort not to call her, not to go to her place so he could see her, hear her, touch her. The only way he managed to stay away was the Flower Cam. He checked it more often. Way more often. Sometimes, when he was home, he just left it on all the time. Frank knew this fixation wasn’t good for him, wasn’t healthy. But he’d given up on making healthy choices long ago.

Frank indulged himself. He watched her, and missed her, and sat in the ache. And he hated it.

And he loved it.

Resisting the urge to call her was a daily battle. And Karen wasn’t making it any easier. If Frank didn’t know any better- he’d almost think she was doing it on purpose.

The other evening Karen had sat on her living room floor in front of the coffee table, and cleaned her .380. He watched her take it apart perfectly. She was confident, and experienced, and so fucking sexy as she handled that weapon like a pro. At one point she’d looked right into the camera and Frank nearly jumped out of his skin. It was like she had felt the intensity of his staring. He wondered if she had any idea how much it would drive him crazy to see her working over her piece like that. He was sweating.

Cleaning her gun wasn’t the worst of it though. Oh no. Karen had also started doing _yoga_. In her living room. It was quite a show.

First off, her clothes. He’d never seen so much of her. She’d put her hair up in a ponytail, show off her long neck. And he couldn’t call what she wore, a “shirt”. It was always some skin tight, sports bra type thing with a bunch of crisscrossing straps in the back that made his brain go a little fuzzy. He could see her belly, and even though she was slender and toned, it still looked soft. So soft. He wanted to touch it. Kiss it. And goddamn. The yoga pants might as well have been painted on. He’d never admit it to him, but David had been right when he’d called Frank an ass man. Karen’s ass made Frank’s mouth water. It was even worse when she wore the little shorts.

Frank groaned as she entered the room tonight, in those infuriatingly tight clothes, ready to torture him again. She couldn’t even show him enough mercy to wear the pants… she had on those ridiculous little shorts. He scrubbed his hand over his face as he sat down, ready to take his punishment. Knowing full well that he could walk away, turn it off an any time… but knowing just as surely that there was no fucking way he was going to do that. So, he watched; getting hotter, breathing heavier, and growing less comfortable in his seat by the second, as she bent and twisted and stretched for him in front of the camera. _Karen…_

Was she doing it on purpose? Was she trying to drive him fucking insane?

Maybe it was already too late. He was already crazy. How else could he suddenly be picturing himself on that screen with her? One second she was bent over in one of his favorite poses, the next second, Frank was there, looming over her. Karen straightened and turned gracefully before reaching for him. He grabbed her ass and squeezed, lifting her up as she wrapped her long legs around his hips. He was finally tasting her neck, her breasts, lifting her higher and higher until he almost got his mouth on her belly…

Frank shook his head to snap out of it. _Shit._

He focused his gaze back on the screen where Karen was still bent in that position he liked so much. Quite alone in her apartment. He shook his head again.

Karen Page was going to drive him crazy.

 

\--

 

Frank continued in his cycle. He was built for it. He could handle anything as long as he could figure out the pattern, learn to anticipate and compensate. His life was in a loop that cycled through punishing, eating, sleeping, and the reward in the end, seeing Karen. Seeing her was without a doubt the highlight of his day. The highlight of his life, really.

He clung on to every single moment with her, and it didn’t matter if she was working, or just reading a book, or unintentionally torturing him in her little yoga outfits, he loved it all. His favourite though, was when she had friends over. He couldn’t get enough of watching her just _be._ She was so _alive._ When she laughed, her smile took over her entire face, her eyes would get all squinty and cute. When she focused, her hands would be in her hair, or touching her face and neck with fluttering fingers. When she was relaxed, usually with a glass of wine, she would stretch out across the couch, smiling wide and blinking slow, the only thing moving quickly would be her hands, which were always so active while she talked.  

Watching Karen in these moments sustained him. They reminded him why, no matter how badly he wanted to go to her, talk to her, see her in person- she was better off without him. They reminded him of his promise to himself to keep her safe. He could handle any personal suffering as long as she was ok, alive and well, and smiling so big that it made her eyes all squinty. Frank would soldier up. He’d deal.

It was getting late and Karen’s house was still dark, but that wasn’t too unusual. A lot of times she came home late on Fridays. She was probably out with friends. Frank sighed. He might not get to see her tonight- he needed to head out soon to check on a few leads he’d tracked down. He was disappointed. It had been a few days since he’d caught more than a glimpse of her. He missed her. Frank rolled his eyes at himself. _Get over it, man. She has her own life...that’s the whole point-_

Karen’s living room lamp clicked on. There she was. Frank’s breath caught in his throat. She was wearing a tiny little black dress with barely there straps over her delicate shoulders. The dress was short, it stopped mid-thigh, and hugged her like a second skin. She looked like an angel. She looked like sin. Frank gulped.

Karen looked back over her shoulder, smiling and talking to someone and… Frank stiffened, irritated. Murdock.

He walked in like he owned the place, wrapping up that stupid cane that he didn’t need, grinning at Karen like an idiot. He followed her to the kitchen where she was laughing and wobbling as she leaned over, kicking off her heels. She was giggly, must have been tipsy from her night out. For a second it looked like she was about to topple over, and in an instant Murdock was there. His hands were on her hips as she grabbed his arms to find her balance and they both burst out laughing. Murdoch’s hands lingered on her even after she released his arms, hung in mid air after she walked away.

Frank scowled at the screen. _Hands off, Red._

He couldn’t watch this. He _shouldn’t_ watch his- he shouldn’t intrude on her if this is some sort of date or something. Acid bubbled in Frank’s stomach… he couldn’t turn it off. He was a true masochist.

Karen grabbed a glass of water for each of them and they clinked _cheers._ Frank just stood there and watched as they continued their conversation. Karen leaned against her table, staying in one spot, but Murdoch seemed to be getting closer and closer. When he got too close, so close Frank’s hand became a fist, Karen moved away to refill her glass. Frank’s hand slowly unclenched. Twice more, Frank watched as Murdoch slowly pursued Karen around her own kitchen, and twice more Karen created distance. She was always smiling, always sweet, but very clear- at least to Frank’s eyes. She didn’t want him.

The monster that always lived inside Frank roared in that small victory. _Sorry Red, you blew it._

But even as his stomach began to settle, trusting that he wasn’t going to witness something horrifying, like Murdoch kissing Karen, or anything more than that... or even worse- the look on Karen’s face if she actually enjoyed it, wanted it… there was a tightening in his chest that Frank couldn’t ignore. He still sood there, frozen in place, watching Murdock and Karen talk and smile at each other and he couldn’t fucking stand it.

Frank scrubbed his hand over his face then raked it back through his hair, growling. He was jealous. And… and why the fuck _shouldn’t_ he be jealous? Frank was doing what was right. He was staying away from Karen, keeping her safe, not bringing his bullshit to her door. But _Red?_ He got to see her every day. He got to be with her, touch her, soak up her smiles and her voice and her beauty, every fucking day. Frank finally plopped down in his chair, annoyed, and swore as he saw Murdoch say something that made Karen laugh and poke him in the chest. It was bullshit. Red was just as dangerous as Frank was. Maybe even _more_ dangerous. He had next-level-ninja-end-of-the-world shit going on that Frank could barely wrap his head around.

Frank shook his head, disgusted. If Murdoch really cared about Karen, he’d stay away. He’d keep her safe. Like Frank.

But Frank’s train of thought ground to a halt as he watched Karen grinning, talking to Murdoch with so much open affection on her face… She cared about him. Deeply. If Matt just cut her off, even if it was for her own safety- it would break her heart. He’d hurt her.

Like Frank.

“Goddammit.”

He was doing the right thing. Right? Was there another way? _Who fucking knows._

All he did know what was that right now, in this moment, watching Karen hug Murdoch goodbye- a hug that lasted way longer than Frank would have liked it to- he missed her. Frank missed her so bad that the ‘Karen’ spot in his chest felt like an open wound.

Murdoch was finally gone, and Frank watched Karen wander around her kitchen in a happy, tipsy way, looking so damn beautiful in that little black dress. So damn beautiful. She was putting their water glasses in the sink... and he’d had enough. Frank was jealous, and frustrated, and lonely. He needed her, just for a little bit. Just a little of her time, and then he’d go out and track down those leads he’d been working on. Just a little bit of her time, and her lovely voice in his ear, and a few smiles towards the camera- that was all he needed, and then he could get by.

He picked up his phone. Pressed his finger to her name.

He watched Karen’s head whip towards her purse. The moment she pulled out her phone and saw the screen, her face lit up. Frank felt his heart thud in his chest.

“Frank!” She answered, in the giddiest voice he’d ever heard out of her.

“Hey, Karen.”

She walked straight up to the camera and got her face really close as she smiled and waved.

“Hey Frank!” She said again.

_Oh god,_ she really was tipsy. She was adorable.

“I missed you! You told me you’d call. Why did you take so long to call?”

Her face was so close to the screen, tilted like a confused puppy. She was so cute and he had no idea what to say.

He must have paused too long because her face suddenly changed and she was worried.

“Frank… are you ok? Do you need help or-”

“No- no, Karen.” He said quickly, feeling bad that he’d scared her, wanting that silly smile back. “I’m fine. All good.”

“Oh phew!” Her breath wooshed out of her in relief as she raked her hand back through her hair and rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, Ma’am.” He said, not knowing if he should hold back his laughter or just let it out.

Karen’s face twitched.

“Shit- this dress is too tight. Hang on a second.” She said as she headed toward her bedroom. Before she walked off screen she spun around pointing straight at the camera. “Don’t hang up!”

“Wouldn’t dare, Ma’am.” He laughed, but he wasn’t sure she heard him.

From the sound of it- she’d thrown the phone on her bed. Frank listened, rapt to the little sounds she made as she wrestled with that tight little dress, and to her sigh of relief when she, he assumed, finally got the damned thing off. Her throaty little noises were doing something to him, heating his blood. He tried to shake it off as he listed to the other rustling sounds, probably her finding something more comfortable to wear.

She emerged from her bedroom with a smile on her face and the phone pressed to her ear.

_Jesus..._

She was in a tee shirt. _Just_ a tee shirt as far as he could see. It was oversized, so it came to just below her butt… but was she honestly trying to torture him? She walked to her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter. She had to reach up to get a glass and _goddammit_ , he caught a glimpse of her perfect cheeks peeking out from the bottom of her shirt as it rose up. She may have been wearing tiny shorts, or maybe they were just underwear… what did it matter? Frank could feel his skin prickling as he broke out into a sweat. She was killing him. She had to know, right? She had to know that the sight of all that skin, her ridiculously long, smooth legs, would melt his brain. _Didn’t she?_

“...Frank?”

Karen sauntered over to the chair nearest the camera and sat down, peering into the lens uncertainly.

Frank vaguely registered that she’d called his name a few times and he’d been silent for way too long.

“Uh- yeah?”

“There you are.” She smiled and leaned into the chair. “How are you?”

She was sitting sideways. He could see almost the entire curve of her ass. Frank closed his eyes. He had to get a grip.

“Good. I’m good. You?”

Her smile grew even bigger.

“I’m great. Today was amazing. It was Foggy’s engagement party!”

Karen’s eyes were all lit up. She glowed, truly happy for her friend. Frank had to smile back.

“Send him my congratulations.”

Karen threw her head back and laughed. He loved it.

“If I sent Foggy your congratulations he’d probably call the cops.”

He laughed.

“Nelson never quite warmed up to me, huh? Murdoch either, for that matter.”

Karen bit her lip, still smiling.

“Nope! Only me. But then again, you’ve saved my life a couple of times, so my opinion is biased.”

“Well, you’ve saved mine a couple of times too. I think we’re even.”

She blushed. He made her blush. Frank was _loving_ this.

“I guess we’re each other’s heroes then,” She said, and she kept eye contact with the camera as she took a sip of her wine. He felt a thump in his chest.

There was a long pause and Frank had no intention of breaking it. He was too busy looking at her, soaking her in. She sat there in the low light of her living room, her long legs crossed. Karen’s skin seemed to glow. One hand held her wine, the other raked through hair, piling it all on one side as she pressed her phone to her ear. Her eyes were so blue and her lips so red. She was gorgeous. Crazy gorgeous.

Karen finished her wine in their silent moment and set the glass aside before reaching down to massage her foot. She let out another one of those small throaty noises that made the hair on the back of Frank’s neck stand up.  

“The party was so fun tonight, but my feet are _killing me_.” She said. Frank wished he could rub her feet.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. The shoes are some of my favorites, but they really hurt after a while and I could barely sit down because my dress was so tight.” She laughed at herself. “I borrowed the dress from my friend... it's more expensive than everything else in my closet combined. It was so pretty.”

“It was.” Frank said, before he could stop himself. _Idiot._

Karen’s eyebrows shot up.

“You liked it? Did I look pretty?”

Frank’s pulse spiked. _God…_

“Yeah.”

She smiled, looking pleased. The hand that had been massaging her foot floated up to trace along her bare thigh.

“You think I’m pretty?”

_Jesus Karen..._

“Every guy who looks at you thinks you’re pretty.”

He was so glad that she didn’t have a camera on him right now. He was sure his face was bright red.

She stared him down.

“I don’t care what _every_ guy thinks. I care what _you_ think.”

_You want to know what I think? You’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen. You’re driving me insane. You haunt my dreams._

“I think you’re beautiful.” Frank heard himself say.

That moment hung there. Crystalized in time. And Frank watched her smile change, from tipsy and carefree, to something softer, heated.

“Thank you.” She said, only slightly above a whisper.

Frank couldn’t respond. He had no idea how. It felt like they were in a bubble together, on the edge of something.

“Frank, are you in New York right now?”

Her question surprised him. What was she thinking of?

“Yeah.”

“Are you… close?” Her hand started tracing over her bare thigh again, probably unconsciously, and Frank couldn’t look away.

He knew what she was asking. She was following their unspoken rules. She wasn’t really asking him to give up his location… she was seeing if he would come over.

BOOM. Frank’s entire body responded to the thought of that. He wanted to. He wanted her. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. But…

No. _NO._

He couldn’t do that- he’d told himself a thousand times. _No._ It would put her in danger. He couldn’t allow it.

“Karen…”

She could hear his rejection in his voice. Frank felt their bubble pop as she blinked and her face shut down.

“Its ok. I shouldn’t have asked.” She said quickly, shooting him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s pretty late. I should probably get to bed.”

Frank felt gut punched. Goddammit- he hurt her again. He could hear it in her voice. Could see it in her eyes as they started swimming. _No._

“Karen-”

“It was really good to talk to you, Frank. Take care, ok? Bye.”

“ _Karen-_ ”

But she didn’t hear him. She’d already hung up. Frank was at a loss. He watched, helpless, as she stood up and toe tapped her lamp off so the screen went black and he couldn’t even see her walk away.

_Fuck._

He could try to call her back, but what the hell would he say? He wanted to smash his phone. He was such an asshole. He shouldn’t have called.

Frank sat there, staring at the dark screen for way too long before finally just swearing and spinning away in his chair. He felt sick to his stomach. He hurt her. That was the _last_ goddamn thing he wanted to do. _Shit._ The more he thought about it, the more pissed off he got.

He wasn’t going out to track down leads tonight. He needed to stay home and get his damn head on straight. He needed a fucking cold shower.

But he couldn’t even get that right tonight. Underneath the guilt, there was another source of discomfort, a roiling that just wouldn’t go away. He couldn’t get the image of Karen, her fingertips fluttering over her smooth legs, out of his head. The cold shower he’d planned on ended up hot. He was restless and frustrated and he couldn’t stop himself from just grabbing on to where he ached for her so bad, and imagining what it would have been like if everything wasn’t so completely fucked. If he had gone straight to Karen’s place, and she answered the door, all bare legs and that damn tee shirt. She’d be so happy to see him. _So_ happy. He’d barely have time to kick the door shut before grabbing her and pinning her to the nearest wall. And she’d smile and sigh his name and kiss him. She’d kiss him like she wanted to drown in him. The way he wanted to kiss her. She’d taste like heaven. Her long arms and legs would be everywhere, wrapped around him so tight. And before he knew it, she’d tear at his clothes, pull him out, and guide him into place. And _fuck_ \- he’d be inside her, bucking with her, straining with her, and it would be so damn good. _So_ damn good. Right there, against the wall, barely two feet into her apartment. Because that’s how much he wanted her. That’s how much he needed her. She’d be _right there_ with him. Coming for him. _Coming with him_ . _Right there._

… Well, shit.

The moment Frank’s head cleared, his eyes snapped open. He felt like an even bigger asshole than before. _What the hell?_ He can’t do that. He shouldn’t even think about it. Especially when he was rejecting Karen, straight to her face, _twice_ now.

Frank pounded his head against the shower wall. That was stupid. Now he had a headache too.

He deserved it.


	4. Chapter 4

He’d left the camera on.

Frank woke up feeling like shit, immediately wanting to go see the Flower Cam, but knowing he should leave it alone- get his head straight before checking it again. He went a few rounds with himself, back and forth, but in the end the decision was already made. 

The moment he approached his desk he could see the feed. Her living room was still, and the light leaking in from the windows made it look a little cold. It was Saturday, so Karen would probably sleep in. She might have a little headache from the alcohol last night. Or she might have a headache because he made her cry. He sighed.

“I’m sorry, Karen.”

The weekend crawled by. In the few sightings he caught of her, she seemed fine. Her normal resilient self. He wanted to call her. _Every minute_ he wanted to call her. But he held back. Not out of fear for her safety, or any noble reason, but because he had no idea what to say. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't know how. 

There were a million ways to lie. He could pretend to be obtuse, that he had no idea anything had gone wrong last time they spoke and try to act normal. Or, he could just pretend that he simply didn’t reciprocate Karen’s feelings, but tell her he still wanted to be friends. _No._ That particular bullshit was too wrong to even consider. He could always pretend that he wasn’t ready yet, that he was still too deeply mourning his wife and kids to consider anyone else. Which honestly- wasn’t true. He’d never stop mourning Maria and the kids, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want Karen. 

The truth was no better. Was he supposed to just go ahead and tell her that he wanted her, he was in love with her, but refused to be with her? That he was committed to staying away from her for her own safety? God, she’d never forgive him for that. The more ways he tried to explain it, the worse it sounded. It didn’t even make sense to him any more. 

He didn’t have the answer, so he didn’t call. 

The weekend melted into Monday, and they hit their routines again. Days passed, and soon it was Friday night already. Frank was gearing up to head out and take care of a few shitbricks when he stopped to check the Flower Cam, just a quick check before he left for the night. 

The screen was blank.

Frank’s chest was stabbed with ice- he couldn’t breathe. There was no index card with a message. It wasn’t a dark screen, like if she had thrown the camera in the trash. It was blank. No stream. Nothing. 

SHIT. Shit.Think.

Frank’s pulse was hammering. 

Karen was done. She had it with him. She was done and she turned the camera off. 

Even as his stomach sank, Frank clung to the idea that it didn’t feel right. Why now? If she was so mad at him she would have turned it off last Saturday… why wait a week? Plus, this was Karen. Karen all-heart-never-give-up-on-a-lost-cause Page. Even if she was furious with him and didn’t want the camera in her house any more, she would have left him a note or said goodbye somehow. That felt true. That was right.

Plus, Frank doubted she’d know how to turn it off. To get a blank screen like this she would have had to smash it. That wasn’t right at all. That wasn’t Karen.

Someone else could have broken it. Someone in her home… breaking things. Frank felt sweat start trickling down his back. He didn’t care that he had no idea how to apologize for last week- or that he might seem like a paranoid psycho- he had to call her. Just to check and see if she was ok. If she answered and told him that she broke the camera herself and he could go to hell- _fine._ At least he’d know she was ok. 

Frank called. The phone rang. And rang. And went to voicemail. _Come on, man. Don’t panic._ If she was really pissed at him, maybe she wouldn’t answer the phone. He tried again. It went to voicemail.

“Karen, its... me. Tell me to go to hell, tell me to piss off- I don’t care just… _please_ call me and let me know you’re ok.”

He got on his computer and called her office. No answer. His hands were trembling. 

What should he do? Why the fuck didn’t he have Red’s number? He should call David-

Panic slapped him in the face, cold. Fisk. _No._ He should call Madani. Get her to check up on Fisk, and that other one… what the hell was his name? Poindexter? 

No- call David first. No-

Frank slammed his hand on his desk. Calling anyone was going to take too long- he needed to go. NOW. And find her. He was already geared up. If he ran into any trouble, they weren’t going to know what hit them.

He was downstairs and in his van in less than two minutes. The drive to Karen’s place went by in a blur, adrenaline rampaging through his veins. He was shaking, cursing. It was all he could do to keep himself from conjuring up visions of Karen, on her living room floor, covered in red. 

When he got there, he forced his way into her building with a flustered pizza delivery guy, took the stairs 3 at a time all the way up to the 5th floor, and tore down her hallway. Her door wasn’t damaged, it was quiet on the inside. That didn’t mean all was well. Frank pounded on the door, not giving a shit if he disturbed the neighbors. There was no answer. 

_God, Karen- please be ok…_

He pounded again, louder. Still nothing. 

 _“Karen!”_ He shouted, ready to bust her door down. 

The door swung open. There was Karen. In a towel. Alive and well and completely alarmed. She looked him over, wide-eyed, before reaching out and dragging him into her apartment.

“Jesus, Frank!” She hissed as she locked the door, then turned on him, tugging him from her hallway into the kitchen where there was more light. 

He followed her like he was floating. It didn’t feel real. 

 _She’s ok._  

She sat him down on a stool and was standing really close. Her hair was all piled up on the top of her head, and most of it was dry. Only a few strands were wet towards the bottom and clung to her neck. She smelled nice. One of her hands clutched her towel. The other one was running all over him, his sides, his arms, his neck and his face. She was touching his jaw now, saying something. It all clicked for him at once that her eyes were scared. Karen thought he was hurt. She was checking him for injuries and asking him if he was ok. 

Frank was still panting, his chest heaving from taking her stairs so fast. He couldn’t speak just yet. He stared at her, still trying to register the fact that she was here, all was well. His worry had been for nothing… It hadn’t been worry. It had been terror. Complete panic. And now all of those emotions where ricocheting around inside him with nowhere to go. He wanted to cry, and laugh, and kiss her, and break something all at once. 

“Frank- _please_ … tell me where you’re hurt.” Her voice was choked up, she was scared.

Frank focused. Regulated his breathing. 

“I’m fine, Karen.” He exhaled. “I’m not hurt.”

She shook her head, not believing him. “Then what’s wrong? What happened?”

The slower his heart rate got, the more Frank felt like a moron.

“I’m sorry. The camera went dead and… I thought-” He knew his ears were beet red. “I’m sorry.”

Karen’s hand was still on his face and it drifted into his hair as she tried to comprehend what he was saying. It felt nice.

“...The camera? What’s wrong with it?”

Frank’s eyes darted over to her bookshelf where he knew the camera had to be, based on the view he’d always seen. Frank stood and moved past her to the Flower Cam. He picked it up. It looked fine. It was a little thing, slightly smaller than a ping pong ball. He held it in his hand and cursed himself. The little piece of shit must have just died. The battery couldn’t last forever. _Goddammit._ All this because of a dead battery.

_Hell._

“The battery must have died.” He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Karen. Barging in like this.The camera went dead and I just thought- I thought…”

Frank’s throat closed up. He couldn’t say the words.

“I can see what you thought.” Karen said, and her voice was low and soothing. 

She walked over to him cautiously, like he might spook if she moved too fast. She put her hand on his arm. Like she did in the hospital. Like she did in the elevator. And he didn’t want to think about that right now. He couldn’t. It would make him do something stupid. He couldn’t even look at her.

“Its ok, Frank.” She said, softly. The sweetness in her voice scraped at him.

“No, its not ok.” Frank stepped back so she wasn’t touching him any more. He couldn’t think straight if she was touching him. “Its _not ok, Karen._ That camera went off- and I was goddamn terrified. Do you get that? Do you know why?”

Frank glared at her, his pent up adrenaline and anxiety clawing at his chest from the inside, needing to unleash on someone, and she was the only one there. 

“Because you’re reckless. _Everything you do is dangerous_.” 

Her eyes went wide. She just gaped at him, speechless for once in her life. 

“What? Its true! All I want is for you to be safe- but you just surround yourself… its like you have a deathwish.”

He’d said the wrong thing and he knew it. Her eyes caught fire.

“ _I_ have a deathwish? Do you hear yourself?” 

He ignored her. 

“You do! Look at the way you went after Lewis Wilson! Shit, Karen- last time I took my eye off you, you decide to play chicken with Wilson Fisk and end up as target practice for that psycho Poindexter?” 

Karen’s jaw dropped, her eyes started welling up. The sight of it tore at his heart and only pissed him off more.

“Yeah, I heard about that, Karen. Jesus Christ.” Frank shook his head, looking away from her, not wanting to see it if he was actually making her cry. “And it’s like you don’t learn. You surround yourself with who knows how many shit magnets through your work, and then seriously dangerous people like Jessica Jones, and _Murdoch-"_

Karen swiped at her cheeks angrily, “They’re my friends, Frank.”

“Goddammit, Karen- get other friends! Normal ones!” He couldn’t believe he was shouting at her, but it was like he couldn’t stop himself, all of his anger and fear and frustration was just pouring out of him. He needed to get through to her, needed her to see it his way. “If they really cared about you- they’d keep you safe! They’d stay away! All I want is for you to be safe! That’s why _I stay away_! That’s why-”

“I never asked you to stay away!” Fresh tears were coursing down her cheeks now, and she wasn’t bothering to wipe them away anymore. “I don’t _want_ you to.”

She was breaking his heart. She didn’t fucking understand. 

“That’s my point, Karen! You should tell me to get lost. You should kick me out! You should- ”

“ _STOP._ ” Karen’s voice wasn’t all that loud, but it was so fierce that he fell silent immediately.

She took a moment. They were both breathing heavy, glaring at each other. 

“Life is random, Frank. Life can be cruel. You know that better than most.” She said, and her voice pierced him like a knife. “The only things that matter are friendship- and love. Whether they’re dangerous or not, doesn’t even register on the scale.” 

Karen took a few slow steps toward closer, until she was directly in front of him, up in his space. Her blue eyes burned him, and even though she was only wrapped in a towel and he was in body armor, Frank felt like she could slay him, right there were he stood.

“I lost my family, too. But I’m still alive.” She said, fighting against the tremble in her voice. Frank couldn’t breathe. “So, now all I can do is _choose_ my family… and hope they choose me back.”

She might as well have reached into his chest and grabbed him by the heart. It was like she struck a match, lighting up the dark caves inside him, and suddenly he could see all the dead ends… and also the way out. His arguments, his reasons, his excuses, were eviscerated. 

They hung there, suspended, connected. Frank didn’t know who moved, maybe they both did, but all of a sudden his forehead was pressed to hers. They were sharing the same air. Invading each other while still giving space in a way that was so _them_ , it made him ache.

“Stop pushing me away.” She whispered. 

He gave her a little nod and opened eyes that he hadn’t realized he’d closed. She was reading him, his eyes, his face. Her hand rose up and he leaned into it as she rubbed his cheek with her thumb. Her fingers came away a little wet. She was wiping tears he hadn’t noticed he’d shed. Frank felt like they were in that bubble again. A precarious place where he might just fall off a cliff, and it would either be the best or the worst thing that had ever happened to him. 

Karen kept watching him. She was probably waiting for him to say something, but speech seemed impossible. 

“Will you stay here, for a while?” She eventually asked, breaking the silence, but not popping that fragile bubble of theirs. 

Frank gave her another twitchy little nod. 

“Ok.” She looked down at herself, and when she caught his gaze again her cheeks were a little pink. “I’m going to put some clothes on.”

He nodded again. Like an idiot. 

Once Karen was safely in her room getting changed, Frank finally felt like he could exhale. _What the hell was happening?_ How had she flipped this all around?

He sat back on his stool, his body starting to feel that deep fatigue that comes after an adrenaline surge wears off. _Karen…_ Maybe she was right. Maybe all of his arguments were garbage. Frank’s mind had been crystal god damn clear, especially after sending her away last time at the hospital, after everything that had happened since then… he’d been certain that staying away from her, from _everyone_ , was the right move. He was on a path. A path that he had to walk alone. So, why did it all feel wrong? How did Karen make it all seem so simple? How did she make it seem so easy, so wonderful? That if he loved her, he could just be with her, and consequences be damned? They just got to _chose_ each other? 

Frank sighed. He loved her. He loved her so much that it was crushing him. He didn’t know if she felt it the same way he did, but he knew she felt something for him. She’d made that clear so many times.

Frank looked around the apartment, shaking his head. How many times over the last few months had he stared at this room through the screen, wishing he was right here. And now here he sat, trying to figure out if he should actually stay. Or if he had the guts, the will to do what a large part of him still believed was right. To leave. Without even saying goodbye. Just disappear into the night where he belonged, and save the both of them.

Karen emerged from her bedroom looking a little shy. Her hair was down and she wore a loose shirt that hung off of one shoulder, and those tiny little shorts that had taunted him so many times. Frank didn’t know if he felt more like laughing or crying. He was so screwed. 

Her mouth tipped to one side.

“If you’re going to stay a while, would you take that off?”

...what?

Frank looked down at himself. The white skull on his body armor was staring out at her from his chest. _Hell._ He forgot he had it on. 

Frank nodded as Karen went to her fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. She popped the tops while she watched him. Frank unclipped his vest and shrugged out of it, holding her eye contact the entire time. Something about taking off the Punisher gear for her felt serious, almost ceremonial. She kept watching him as he put the vest on her table, disarmed himself of his handguns, his knives too. Once he’d taken it all off, it felt like an agreement being made between them. He wasn’t quite sure what exactly he was agreeing to. He felt vulnerable, defenseless in more ways than one. And he hated it. 

And he loved it. 

With the Punisher set aside, they were just people. Just Frank and Karen. Just a man and a woman in a kitchen, with so much to say to each other and no idea how to say it. Frank shifted his weight from one foot to the other, not knowing what to do with the nervous energy building up inside him. 

Karen approached him with quiet, barefoot steps, and handed him a beer. He nodded at her again, apparently that was the maximum level of communication he was capable of at the moment.

“I’m sorry you were so scared tonight,” she said, glancing at the dead camera on her bookshelf. “I had no idea that the camera died.”

Frank huffed some semblance of a laugh and rolled his eyes at himself before taking a swig of his beer. 

“I should have guessed that the battery died. I wasn’t thinking. When I couldn’t reach you on the phone I kind of just…” He trailed off feeling awkward.

Karen’s frowned.

“You called? I’m sorry- I didn’t hear it…” 

She went over to her purse on the table, dug around for her phone for a few moments, and came up empty handed. 

“Huh. It’s around here somewhere.” Karen’s eyes did a quick scan over her living room and after not seeing it there, she held up one finger indicating Frank to _wait_ and she headed into her bedroom. 

Frank pulled out his phone to help her expedite the search. He dialed her number. He didn’t hear a ring, and Karen must not have heard one in her room either because she continued rummaging around through her things. Then, very quiet in the living room, Frank heard the soft pulsing buzz. Her phone was buried in her couch cushions. Frank walked over, dug it out, and was about to let her know he found it, when he looked at the screen. 

The screen said “Home”.

Frank froze. His heart banged in his chest, but it took his brain a few seconds to catch up.

Karen listed Frank as ‘Home’ in her phone. When she called him, she was calling Home. Every time he’d watched her face light up when she looked at her phone to answer one of his calls… it said _Home._  

His throat closed up. 

Frank felt a seismic shift, a crack inside him. In that moment, he felt the walls he had built up against Karen, against this _thing_ between them, against the very idea that he might be able to scrape together some sort of life that didn’t revolve around death and destruction- he felt them break and crumble and fall. She left him in ruins. 

 _Home._ She chose him. And he didn’t have the strength or the will to deny it anymore- he chose her. He felt the exact same way. She was his home. His family. The light in his world. The only bit of peace he had. 

He was still staring at Karen’s phone trying to remember how to breathe, when Karen re-emerged from her room. She froze mid-step when she saw Frank’s eyes fixed on her phone, the look on his face. 

Frank looked up, pinned her with his gaze. She looked skittish. 

The only thought in Frank’s head was _GO_. He tossed both phones on the couch, crossed the room in a couple of long steps, and had his hands in her hair in seconds. He paused only long enough to breathe her name before covering her mouth with his. The sensation of it hit him like a shockwave, shook him where he stood.

Frank felt Karen stiffen in surprise. She gasped against his lips. But it only took a breath before her hands were up over his chest, making fists in his shirt, clinging to him in a way that made his entire body sing with relief. Frank dug his hands deeper into her silky hair and slanted his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss. When his tongue met hers it was like a drug, a rush of blood straight to the head. She let out a little whimper. 

Frank pulled away, creating just enough space so that he could look her in the eye. But his hands couldn’t let go, fingers winding her hair, knuckles caressing her cheek, savoring this contact, this closeness. 

“Home.” He whispered, his eyes not knowing where to land, bouncing back and forth from her eyes, to her lips, to his own hands on her skin. “I’m _Home?_ ”

Karen’s cheeks flushed pink, but she didn’t look away. 

“Yes… that’s how I feel about you, Frank. That’s what you are to me.”

Her blue eyes were screaming at him that she was telling the truth, that she needed him to understand.

He did. It nearly made his knees buckle.

“That’s what you are to me too, Karen. I swear to god, that’s what you are to me.” He growled, “I fucking need you.”

And words weren’t enough. He needed to show her, to make her understand beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the center of his goddamn universe. He chose her the way she chose him, and he didn’t want either of them to question it ever again. 

This time when he kissed her, it was brutal. In that moment he was Frank Castle, and The Punisher, and every other version of himself that ever existed- his entire being was focused on Karen. On pressing as close to her as he could get, on showing her his desperation and quenching it at the same time, on apologizing for being such an asshole and denying this. She met him right there where he was, grasping at him, opening up to him, sighing into his mouth. They were kissing like they wanted to drown in each other, the way he’d wanted to kiss her for so long. 

He couldn’t get close enough, he wanted more. Frank bent a few inches so he could reach her ass to lift her up. _Goddamn._ He’d imagined this so many times- getting his hands full of her. She felt amazing under his palms. He took the few steps over to her kitchen table and set her down. Now he was where he wanted to be. Her legs wrapped around his hips so tight, those tiny little shorts concealing almost nothing from him- she was miles of smooth skin, clinging to him. His hands were everywhere, her calves, her thighs, her arms, neck, and face. Karen’s hands were just as busy as his. She was dragging them up his chest and down his back, digging in with her nails in a way that made him want to beg and he wasn’t even sure what for. 

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him back, breathing heavy. She searched his face.

“I’ve wanted this for so long… thought about this so many times.” She breathed.

He nodded back, gulping. _Me too._

Karen kept her hold on his hair, but moved her mouth to his neck, kissing slowly.

“So many times, Frank.” She said between kisses. “I’d wish you would finally get tired of watching from the camera… that you’d just show up at my door.”

Her kisses were moving along his jaw, to his ear. Frank was squeezing and releasing his hands on her hips, trying to remember not to grip too hard, but her kisses and her voice was drugging him- everything was getting fuzzy. 

“You’d burst in and just grab me, pin me up against the wall.” Karen’s voice was almost a whine now. Frank’s blood was boiling, barely able to handle her talking, but never wanting her to stop. “God- from there it could go anywhere… sometimes you’d just take me right there against the wall.”

Her kisses stayed slow, but Frank’s pulse raced, pounded in his ears. 

“Other times… I’d get right down on my knees…” 

Frank groaned, barely able to keep himself from just letting go and grinding his hips into hers. 

“Did you ever think about that, Frank?” She whispered, right before kissing that sensitive spot right behind his ear. “Did you?”

Frank exhaled, not knowing how, or even wanting to answer that question. Her lips moved over his ear again, “...Ever?”

And she bit down lightly on his earlobe.

_Fuck._

“Jesus- _yes_.” He hissed, through grit teeth. He couldn’t stop from grinding against her now, it was a lost cause. 

Frank pried his hands away from Karen’s thighs to slide them up her sides underneath her shirt. She complied willingly, eagerly, raising her arms up so he could get her shirt off and toss it away. Her hair floated back down in slow motion. Frank’s eyes wandered from her eyes, to her neck, to her perfect breasts that he never in a million years thought he’d actually get to see. She was so beautiful, her nipples already taught, reaching out for him. He took them in both hands, reveling in the softness, as he leaned forward and kissed Karen with a force that rocked her back on the table. Soon she was laying down as he loomed over her. Her hands were in his hair and on his shoulders as his mouth made the journey from her lips down her neck, to her breasts. They both sighed as he took first one breast in his mouth, then the other. He loved it. He kissed her breasts, his tongue flicking over her nipples in a way that had her shivering, so pretty. His mouth moved even lower, to her belly. _Finally._ So soft. Frank caressed her with his fingers first, and then his nose, before finally dragging his lips across her belly, getting drunk on her skin. 

Karen was practically purring under him, her fingers twirling in his hair that he was suddenly so glad he’d decided to let it grow longer. 

“What did you think about, Frank?” She murmured. 

Frank looked up at her in a daze, no idea what she was talking about.

She bit her lip. “When you thought about this… what did you think about?”

 _Oh._ Fuck. He wasn’t sure how to even begin to answer that… but she was waiting for him to say something. Almost holding her breath.

“You.” He said. Her gaze was focused on his mouth, she wanted more. “Getting my hands on you.”

Her eyes darkened.

“Getting my mouth on you.”

She let out the tiniest whimper, but Frank heard it like an explosion. Apparently she liked hearing him talk just as much as he liked listening to her. He felt an engine revving up inside his chest, he pressed on the gas. 

“I thought about making you come, Karen.” 

 _There_. Her eyes lit up and she moaned for him, a real unrestrained moan. The sound a woman made when her man was driving her crazy in the best possible way. Frank fought back a moan of his own and focused on her face as he slid his hand to the waistband of those ridiculous little shorts and slipped inside. 

Karen’s mouth dropped open and her eyes were glued to his. The moment his fingers reached her center Frank was already panting. She wasn’t wearing underwear.

“You’re _so wet,_ Sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out of his mouth before be could stop it, but he found it felt good and Karen’s answering smile made him sure that he’d said the right thing.

He circled his fingers and watched her dance for him. She was so wet, _so hot._ And it was all for him. He made her feel this way. 

Frank looked down at his hand trapped inside those little shorts and something snapped inside his brain. He used both hands, tugging them off of her before he could think twice, mumbling “little fucking shorts” under his breath. 

Karen’s small burst of laughter grabbed his attention and he looked up to find her grinning down at him, mischievous. “You don’t like my shorts?”

Frank stared at her, then at the little things clenched in his fist before tossing them over his shoulder. “I fucking hate them.”

Something in Karen’s smile, her glittering eyes, told Frank that he’d been played. She’d known that all of her little fucking outfits were driving him crazy. She’d done it on purpose. 

Frank felt something similar to euphoria start trickling through his veins. For the first time in a week- since the last time they’d talked on the phone and he made her cry- Frank wanted to laugh. There she was, completely naked, laid out on her table for him like a feast, smirking up at him like she’d just beaten him at arm wrestling. He grinned and shook his head at her which seemed to finally be the permission she needed to laugh out loud at him. The sound was like music. Like song. It blasted away his shadows and filled him up with light.

As she laid there giggling at him, she started to cross her arms over herself in some attempt at modesty, but Frank wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to the table near her head, leaning over her, trying and failing to school his expression into something that might pass as intimidating.

“You think it’s funny to make me crazy, Ma’am? To drive me out of my goddamn mind?” 

She didn’t even bother to deny it. “I thought you were _already_ out of your goddamn mind.”

They both laughed until he silenced her with a kiss that turned into many. Her fingers squeezed his where he kept them pinned against the table. She arched up towards him, but he held his distance, denying her the contact she wanted. 

He pulled back and waited for her to slowly open her eyes before he gave her one last chaste peck, released her hands, and stood up. Karen blinked, confused, until she saw him grab one of her chairs and settle up to the table like he was sitting down to dinner. Which, in fact, he was. Karen’s face bloomed red and she leaned up on her elbows, looking a little nervous. _Good._ It was nice to feel like he was one step ahead of Karen Page for once in his life. The mixture of joy, relief, and the insanity of how turned on he was, coursed through his body… Frank felt intoxicated.

Part of him, a large part, wanted to skip straight to the main course. To go full-on caveman, throw her over his shoulder, toss her onto her bed, and just take her until he screamed his name. Part of him was roaring for that. But the other part of him wanted _this_ , first. He couldn’t wait for this. It was too good to be true, already better than anything he’d ever imagined. He was playing with Karen… _having fun_ … something he honestly thought he’d never experience in this way with a woman again in his life. If this was a dream- he prayed to God he wouldn’t wake up. 

Frank smiled at her, hoping to get her to relax as he parted her knees and lifted her legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of one of her thighs and ran the backs of his knuckles along the outside of the other. 

“We’ll see who drives who crazy.” He smirked. 

Karen tried to smirk back, but it came off a little timid. He massaged her thighs with soothing strokes. _Don’t worry, I got you._

Frank held eye contact with her as he laid his first kiss at her center. He could have groaned the sight of her, the taste. He watched her mouth fall open, her chest start to rise up and down more rapidly as her breathing became labored. 

He kept it slow at first, heavy kisses, long licks, loving the way she moved with him, responding to his every touch so beautifully. He toyed with her, riling her up, loving the needy little noises she was making. When he finally sucked on her clit, she let her elbows go and collapsed back on the table with the most wonderful moan. Frank loved doing this with a woman. It was so fucking intimate. He could read everything about her in the way she moved, he could tell what she liked and what she wanted, he could give it to her over and over again until she had to beg him to stop. It drove him wild.

Frank couldn’t hold back any more. He ate her like a like he was starving. She was delicious, so sweet, so sensitive, writhing under his hands and mouth like she was coming unglued. Her fingers dug into his hair and held on. Frank could feel her tension building, the sounds she made were getting higher and higher pitched. He kept up his rhythm, didn’t change a thing. _Come on, Sweetheart… I got you, I got you. Come on..._ and _there-_ she snapped. Her back arched, her thighs clamped around his ears, and he knew she was seeing stars. _Fucking incredible._

He let her come down with little kisses. Her grip on his hair turned into a caress, her fingers carding through, smoothing it back from his face gently, over and over again. But this wasn’t over. Before she fully got her breath back he started again, this time sinking a finger inside her heat and curling it just right. She gasped and looked down at him, her beautiful blue eyes huge. He nodded slowly at her and kept doing what he was doing. He told her he was going to drive her crazy, didn’t he? 

“ _Oh god_ …” She moaned.

He loved it, he was so turned on he felt like he could breathe fire. Frank’s hands played Karen like an instrument, travelling from between her perfect legs, to her soft belly, to her breasts. He was in heaven, making hungry sounds in his throat between her moans. She was already close again, her fingers abandoned his hair to make fists in her own, her face was alive with the most gorgeous kind of strain and abandon. 

“Frank!” 

 _Fucking hell-_ she moaned his name. If there was one thing guaranteed to melt his sanity it was that- he’d completely lose it. 

_“Frank!”_

He shuddered at the sound of his name falling from her lips as she came. _So fucking beautiful._

Frank let her relax this time. Not kissing her where she was too sensitive, just caressing with light fingertips as her heart rate slowed. He reached for her hands, pulled her into a sitting position, then took her by the hips and lifted her down from the table onto his lap, straddling him. He almost laughed, her body was limp as a ragdoll. She was putty in his hands. 

Once she was seated, she peeked at him from under her lashes, still catching her breath. He didn’t rush her. He tucked her hair behind her ears with his fingers, stroked her cheek with his knuckles. It was a surreal feeling, Karen sitting naked in his lap, while he was fully dressed. It was hot. It also made him feel strangely possessive of her, like she was _his_ … and he’d do anything for her. 

Karen leaned in slowly, gave him the sweetest, gentle kiss. She kept it light, her lips barely brushing him as she rained down little kisses over his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his brow. He closed his eyes and accepted them all, feeling the fire building steadily inside him as he ran his hands slowly over her thighs. Karen reached down to the hem of his shirt and began to tug. She didn’t have to tell him twice. He had his shirt up and off in one stretch. The showering of Karen’s kisses stopped once his shirt hit the floor and she took a moment to look at him. 

Frank wasn’t one to feel self conscious, but he had a feeling Karen could make any man feel weak under her gaze. There was a barely-there smile on her lips, he could see it more in her eyes. She let her fingertips flutter over his chest and he almost shivered. Her eyes followed her hands as she traced over several scars, some old, some new, and he watched her take it all in, tension building up in his lungs. Her fingers floated to his arms and she finally applied some real pressure to his biceps, grabbing on. Frank couldn’t help but flex a little under her touch and she broke into a smile, her eyebrows raising at the fact that her hands didn’t come anywhere close to being able to wrap around his arms. She massaged the muscles.

“Damn, Frank.” 

The tension in Franks chest burst out in a quick laugh, his ears going red at her obvious compliment. He tried to bite back his shit eating grin even as his ego was beating his chest. He liked that she liked to look at him, touch him. He liked that she wanted him to know she how much she liked it. It was such a turn on to know that she was turned on. By him. _Damn, Karen_. 

She felt up and caressed his chest for a little longer under his heated gaze before sinking her hands into his hair again and dragging him to her for a kiss. She kissed him like she had nothing to do for the rest of her life other than this. She kissed him with hunger and possession and need. Frank’s arms wrapped around her, leaving no space between them, no separation. The hard planes of his bare chest finally met the softness of hers. She felt amazing against him. Karen moaned into the kiss and finally, _finally_ rocked against him where he was so goddamn hard. Frank groaned too, his hands instantly squeezing on to Karen’s ass and pulling her even closer as he rocked back against her. It was so good. Electric. Perfection. Nothing could be better. 

Except it kept getting better.

She broke the kiss and started trailing heavy kisses down his throat. Karen’s hands were scrabbling at his belt, but he was no help to her at all- his hands stayed on her, kept her moving with him. His was lost to that motion, to the feeling of them moving sync. Somehow Karen must have gotten his belt undone though, because all of a sudden she was out of his grasp. She was planting sweet kisses down his chest, his stomach…

Frank felt like he was in a dream, his hands hovering in mid-air as he watched Karen sink to her knees in front of him, still kissing every inch of him she could reach. She had his jeans undone and he lifted his hips to help her on autopilot. 

At the first touch of her hand around him Frank let out a noise that would have embarrassed him if he wasn’t so completely lost to the moment. He couldn’t believe this was happening. But it was, those were Karen’s hands, her eyes, her lips wrapping around-

_Fuck._

She was so good. Her mouth felt so fucking good. Frank felt his entire body engulfed in flames, every inch of him shocked wide awake. _What a sight._ He’d never forget how she looked in this moment… gorgeous and _all his_. He gathered her hair in his hands, kept brushing it back with his fingers. He needed something to hold on to- to tether him to reality. This was too good, too goddamn good. He could feel the wave starting to build up inside him, about to take him over. She looked up at him with those big beautiful eyes and it was just too much.

 _“Ah- Karen.”_ He moaned, pulling her up quickly, but as lightly as he could by her hair and shoulders. 

She was surprised, but he didn’t give her a moment to be confused. 

“That was so good, Sweetheart. So good.” He said, breathing heavy. “I want you.”

He didn’t have to explain anymore. He watched her eyes glitter with understanding as she rose. She stood over him like a goddess and he stared up at her, toeing off his boots, ready to worship. 

Frank stood, just about to shuck off his pants, when a thought hit him like a brick in the face.

“Karen, I don’t have any- ” _Goddammit._ “Do you have a…” 

Karen grinned at him. “What? With all those pockets- you don’t carry a condom in your Punisher gear?” 

Frank laughed. How did she always find a way to give him shit? He loved it.

She was walking backward toward her bedroom, swaying her hips, taunting him. “I’m on birth control. We’re good to go.”

Frank nearly ripped the rest of his clothes off. “Yeah, we are.” 

By the time he caught up to her she was already spread out on her bed for him. He was on her in an instant, covering her body with his. All of her. All that skin on skin. It was euphoric. His body felt like it was rejoicing, tingling. 

Frank kissed her like he’d been starved for her. He _had._ He pressed her into the mattress, wrapped her legs around him, rocked against her in a way that had them both moaning and needy and urgent. Now. _Now._ She was wrapped around him so tight, it was easy to pull her even closer and flip them around. Suddenly he was on his back and Karen was above him, gasping and digging her fingers into his chest. She sat up, her heavy lidded eyes searching him, and as usual, she could read his mind. _Yes, Baby._

She rose up on her knees, took him in her hand, and when she sank down on him- the world stopped. Everything narrowed, focused, became sharper. This was life. He was _alive._

She took her time and when they were fully, completely connected, they both moaned in blessed relief. Karen braced one hand on the bed near his head, the other on his chest, and began to move. She started slowly, but they found their rhythm as quickly as he’d known they would. They’d always been in sync. She moved over him, kissing and clutching and blowing his mind. 

Frank had to take a moment, just to feel it all. The way they fit together, they way she squeezed him, it was so much better than he’d dared to hope. It was perfect. She was perfect. She felt so good, surrounding him, rocking over him, obliterating everything else in the world that wasn’t in this room, in this bed. He was still absorbing it all when she let out the prettiest gasp and sat up tall. Her expression was pure desire. She dragged her hands over him, and he shuddered. Her hands continued their way up her own body, over her thighs and stomach, over her breasts, lingering there for a moment, then up into her own hair. She started rocking harder, faster, chasing her bliss. She’d never looked more beautiful. Frank’s eyes were threatening to squeeze shut because it felt so amazing, but he didn’t let himself look away. Not while she was dancing like this for him. Frank was beside himself, thrusting up into her, feeling that electric, overwhelming pleasure starting to build in him again, but desperate to give her everything she wanted, to topple her over that edge.

She was too far away. Frank sat up and grabbed for her, burying his face in her neck, thrusting up harder, faster. Karen latched on to him with a whimper. She couldn’t stop sweet moan after sweet moan from pouring from her lips as she rode him, digging her hands into his hair and pulling in a way that hurt so good. The noises she made were fueling him as they got higher and breathier. He could feel it as she got closer and closer, she started to stiffen up, lose her rhythm. _Yeah, Sweetheart. Give it up for me. Come on, Baby… that’s it…_

And then she was shivering and shaking in his arms, fluttering around him so tight, he almost lost it right there. Her breaths were coming out in sobs. She panted and rode her orgasm to its completion as her rocking against him slowed.

 _I got you, Karen._ Frank felt 10 feet tall. His need for her was nearly out of control, but he still wanted sooth her, spoil her. He held her close as he flipped them back around, slowly lowering Karen to her back on the bed, laying himself between her thighs. He let her catch her breath while kissing her neck, her collar bones, her breasts. He was still thrusting, but slowly, almost an afterthought until Karen rolled her hips in a slow thrust back.

_“Frank...”_

_Fuck_. She moaned his name. And the lazy satisfaction in the way she drawled it out sent a surge through him. He froze, growling. Karen, never one to miss a thing, noticed. The goddess did it again. Louder.

_“Frank...”_

This was a thing for him, it set him off. Made him lose it. The sound of her voice moaning his name was like an electric jolt, or a shot of adrenaline straight into his veins. 

Frank reared up onto his knees, almost shaking with how badly he needed her, how ready he was to just let go. He was sure his eyes were wild as he stared down at her, trying to rein himself in, but she didn’t let him, didn’t even give him a chance. 

She bit her lip and looked him straight in the eye, before whispering, “Come on, Frank.”

Whatever control had, evaporated at the sound of her voice. Frank wasn’t quite sure what he said to her in response, but he figured it probably as profane and unhinged as he felt. He grabbed her hips and lifted them up to meet him where he knelt. He was back inside her in one hard buck. _Jesus- she felt so good._ Frank let himself go. He thrust into her like a madman, like a man who’d been caged and then set free. He didn’t have to worry about it being too rough, Karen’s moans were enough to show him she was loving this as much as he was. Frank could feel it all charging up inside him, pure exhilaration.

He bent lower, needing to be closer. Frank crooked Karen’s knees over his arms and came at her with everything he had. He was sweating, she was too. They were lost in each other, found in each other. Frank couldn’t control what was coming out of his mouth at this point. He knew he was grunting and groaning, swearing and praying. All it took was one shiver from Karen, the first sign that he’d brought her to the brink one more time, and he was gone. Done. Shaking with pleasure and pouring himself out into her. Savoring every last second, every last spark. 

He nearly collapsed on top of her, but somehow managed to roll to his side, taking her with him. She was loose in his arms again, putty in his hands. Neither of them seemed to be able to talk at the moment. They communicated purely through caresses and eye contact. Frank couldn’t form coherent thoughts, he never wanted to think again. He was… happy.

After a while, Karen looked like she wanted to say something. He nudged her nose with his. _Tell me._

All she said was, “Stay.”

And saying yes to that was the easiest thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so I miscalculated how long this story was going to be. This chapter is definitely the length of 2 of my normal chapters... but I couldn't find a way to split it up that didn't kill the inertia... so, here is this big whopping chapter - haha:) Also- I still feel like they have a few things to say, so there will be one more after this.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Frank normally woke up early, but not this early. 

He wasn’t used to sleeping next to someone anymore. Karen must have moved, or maybe he did, and felt her there. Either way, he’d jolted awake, momentarily disoriented before realizing this was Karen’s bed, Karen’s room, and she was lying next to him, sound asleep. They’d only fallen asleep a few hours ago. The light creeping in through the windows was that mysterious, almost neon blue, early morning glow. Frank studied Karen. In the blue, she looked like something out of a dream. Her hair fanned out over the pillows, her skin incandescent in the light. 

How had he gotten here? How the hell had he gotten this gorgeous creature to care about him? To give herself to him over and over? Memories of last night were flickering through his brain. He squeezed his eyes closed to shut them down. It was too early to get his blood up and pumping like that. There was too much to figure out. 

Frank forced himself to look away from Karen’s transfixing form. He glanced around the room, really noticing it for the first time. This was pretty much the only part of her house that he didn’t have completely memorized. He’d never been able to see past this door. 

There was Karen’s closet with all her Karen Page-y outfits, her pencil skirts and blouses. There was Karen’s desk with her jewelry and her lotions, and all sorts of papers that probably contained all sorts of things that he wished she wasn’t involved in. There was a photo on the wall of a teenage boy- it had to be her brother. His heart flipped in his chest. He wanted to hold her hand, but didn’t risk waking her up. Here, in this room, were Karen’s things, probably her most precious things… and now Frank was in here, too. 

Damn. That set him on edge and he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. But he could ballpark it. He was on edge for the exact reasons he’d been picking a fight with her last night- but now look at him… in way too deep, ready to bring his bullshit straight to her doorstep. 

 _Hell._ Why did all the things that had become so simple in the heat of the night, seem so complicated in the cold light of the morning?

Frank’s skin was starting to crawl. He needed to get up, get some space. 

He rolled as softly and quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake her, and he succeeded, she was out like a light. He made his way silently out of her room, to the kitchen. He took a look around. Evidence of the previous night was everywhere. Their phones still laying haphazard on the couch. His Punisher gear still in a neat stack on the table, the same table where he’d spread Karen out, where he’d feasted on her and she’d writhed so beautifully under his hands. Frank shivered. Their clothes were all over the place, her shirt in the kitchen, her little shorts flung all the way to the living room.

The sight of it all was making him as hot as it was making him uncomfortable. He needed some water. Frank padded over to her cabinet to grab a glass, shaking his head that he knew exactly where to look, he knew her apartment as well as he knew his own. 

He took a few gulps of water and then held the cool glass against the side of his neck, his mind whirring. 

He was being selfish. He was being _stupid._ But- no he wasn’t. Last night was incredible, profound, real. They were choosing each other. They could figure it out… right?

There was a war inside him. All of his doubts crawling out from the shadows of his mind.

He should never have let this happen. He should leave right now. Break her heart, burn the bridge. The thought gutted him. Frank wanted to smash his head into the wall. He wondered if he’d even have the strength to leave. Or, if he’d turn right back around, make things even worse- like he had with Beth. 

Frank, squeezed his eyes shut, shook that thought off. It was wrong to compare he what he had with Karen to what had been with Beth.

Frank had been in a dream state with Beth. Yeah, he’d told her his real name, but he was still pretending to be a “Pete”. Pretending that could be a normal guy with a vaguely dark past. That he could keep a  9 to 5, and play ball with her boy, and everything would end up cozy and sweet. That he could have some sort of future with no more blood on his hands, no more vengeance to seek.

With Karen, there was no pretending. She’d call him on that shit before he could even get started. She knew what he was, she saw him. She could feel the darkness in him, the same as Maria… and she chose him anyway. Weird how comparing Karen with Maria didn’t feel wrong at all. They were so different- but both women saw everything about him. They _had_ him.

Frank finished his water and sighed. His gaze landed on the chair by the table. The one with his clothes in piles all around it. The one where he’d sat with Karen in his lap, kissing him, touching him like he was precious to her, a treasure. He was still shattered be the way they’d connected last night, at the gifts she’d given him. Every single moment had been unexpectedly, overwhelmingly amazing. 

Frank shook his head, slowly acknowledging the truth. The night he’d spent with Beth had been good, satisfying in its own way- comfort in a shared sadness. But last night with Karen, actually- _any time_ he was with Karen… that was being alive. It was a step forward. An after. 

God, he loved her. But how could he love her best? By staying, or by going? Hell, Beth had gotten shot within 24 hours of being with him… if anything happened to Karen…

Frank shuddered. Even the thought of it turned his stomach, gave him chills. _Fuck-_ he couldn’t even deal with the possibility. Thinking about her getting hurt was a waking nightmare. _Karen_ … He needed her. He needed to go check on her right now, just to look at her, to watch her breathing, to know she was ok. He didn’t even want to wake her up. 

But when Frank got to her doorway he could see she was already awake. Karen was sitting up, facing the window. She was so still. Frank heart thudded at the sight of her; her bare back so smooth and beautiful, bedsheets pooled around her hips. He moved and a floorboard squeaked. Karen’s head whipped around and her mouth dropped, her eyes were swimming. 

“Oh…” Her voice cracked. She turned away from him quickly, hiding her face in her hands. 

Shit. _No._

Frank crossed the room quickly, his heart in his throat. He climbed back into bed and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist, but she was stiff in his arms, still trying to hide her face. He winced. It was obvious- she thought he’d split, bailed on her after the night they’d shared… he didn’t blame her for thinking that. He was an asshole, he’d walked away from her too many times. Now, seeing the way it would have effected her if he’d actually done it, he cursed himself. 

Frank held her close, piling her blankets up around them like maybe they could protect them from the rest of the world. He soothed his hands up and down her back, kissed her hair, and waited. Karen refused to let herself start openly crying, but the battle was hard. Her breathing was shallow. It took a long time for her to look up at him as he held her, feeling miserable, helpless.

Once her eyes finally met his, they were locked together. Both trying to read each other, trying to figure out where to start. 

He ran his knuckles over her cheeks, up and down her arm. She finally relaxed against him, resting a hand on his chest, her foot hooking around his under the covers. 

“... Did you almost leave?” 

He couldn’t lie to her. “Yeah.”

She frowned up at him. “Why?”

_God, where to fucking start?_

“Because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Karen.” 

She didn’t look confused, or even mad. She just waited for him to continue, her thumb lightly making circles on his chest. Shit. She wasn’t going to lead him anywhere- he was going to have to use his words, talk this out. Frank felt the small prickle of sweat threatening to start trickling down the back of his neck. He was afraid of saying something that would hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. But he had to try to explain. He owed her that. 

“How is this supposed to work? Any given moment someone could recognize me, someone could use you to get to me.” His grip on her tightened instinctively. “Shit- Karen, you could catch a stray bullet just by standing close to me. I cannot let that happen.”

He brought his thumb up to trace her jaw. “I cannot let that happen.”

Karen’s eyes were soft and understanding, but Frank was aching. He was trying to hell himself they were just talking, but he could feel himself tearing apart inside, he could hear himself about to say goodbye.

“I understand.” She said, her thumb never stopping its slow circles on his chest. “I know how you feel. The same could happen to you, just for being around me.”

Frank rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help it- it wasn’t the same.

“ _Don’t._ ” She bit out, for the first time actually looking a little angry. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

...what?

Frank narrowed his eyes at her, confused.

Karen took a breath, bracing herself.

“Before we met… Wilson Fisk framed me for murder.” 

Frank froze. 

“There was this nice guy from work... Fisk had him killed. Just for going on a date with me- for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

Frank couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"And Ben. My friend." Karen’s were getting glassy. "Fisk murdered him for working with me. For getting too close." 

She let a few tears fall, but didn’t stop staring right into Frank’s soul.

“Don’t you see? We don’t get to control all of this. We just have to choose who we love. To hold on with both hands.”

Frank felt like he’d been kicked in the head. 

His thoughts were swimming, his emotions riding waves of a current he couldn’t control, completely shocked and grieved by what he'd just heard. Wilson fucking Fisk needed a bullet in him.

How was she so strong? How had she survived so much?

And... she’d said _love..._ he could barely absorb it. 

And then she quoted back at him the advice he’d given her so long ago… calling him out on how he was doing the exact goddamn opposite.

Hell- part of him knew she was right. But… 

“Karen…” he said, grasping for an argument, for something to prove his point. “I couldn’t handle it if you got hurt because of me. I just couldn’t.”

The circles on his chest stopped. She sat up and glared at him in a way that was daring him to look away, to flinch. She was pissed. Shit. Why was she so beautiful when she was pissed?

“So, what’s the answer, Frank? How can anyone _handle_ something like that?” Her scowl made him feel 2 inches tall. “You could leave right now. Throw me away. And if I go out and get shot by some random psycho tomorrow- what? You won’t be sad because we weren’t _together?_ You’d be able to _handle it?”_

 _Jesus. No._ Fuck.

That was too horrible to even imagine. He shook his head and sat up too, needing to meet her on her level, to make her understand. Reached for her.

“ _No._ That’s not what I meant-”

“But that’s where you’re headed, right?” She interrupted, not shoving his hands away, but not shifting closer to him like he wanted her to. “We live dangerous lives. Either one of us could get taken out on any given day- and if that happens… will the one who’s left be wishing that we’d never met? That last night never happened?”

She was crying now, so frustrated with him that she couldn’t stop it no matter how hard she was trying.

“No! We’d be wishing that he had more time! Regretting every single second we wasted debating this _bullshit!_ ”

And she actually shoved him in the chest, trying to turn away, to hide her tears from him again, but he wouldn’t let her. He couldn’t let her go- not like this. Not when she was totally and completely right. 

Frank felt like he’d been doused with a bucket of ice water, smacked awake. He felt caught and set free at the same time. Karen was trembling under his hands, fighting her tears. He wanted to grovel at her feet. He wanted to beg her for- _god_ , he wanted to beg her for _everything._ For forgiveness, for peace, for a future, for life itself…

Who the hell was this woman? How did someone so incredible even exist? How was she so much more brave than he was? So much smarter. So much stronger. 

She was right and he was wrong. Period. End of argument. Of course she was. Everything she’d just said had hollowed him out, and filled him back up with something so much better. She tore through all of his bullshit, all of his reasons, like a goddamn hurricane. Just like last night. Frank cringed- feeling ten times shittier for dragging them through this- _again._ For making her cry- _again._ He wished he could start this morning over. He should never have gotten out of bed, should have woken her up with kisses and made her smile.

He clutched her closer, and she didn’t fight him, but he hated that she was rigid in his arms. She wouldn’t look at him. _Dammit- make this right. Fix it!_

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He whispered, rubbing his hands up and down her back like he was trying to warm her up even though he was the one who felt cold. “You’re right. You’re 100% goddamn right.”

She was relaxing in his arms a little, but she still wouldn’t look up at him. He kissed her hair. 

“All this time I thought I needed to stay away to protect you, but maybe I was just protecting myself.”  

She went still in his arms.

“But you’re right, Karen. No matter what happens, I’ll always be wishing I was right there with you.” He tightened his grip on her, praying to God she could trust him now, even after all his fuck-ups. “I want to hold on with both hands.”

Karen finally raised her eyes to his, and her eyes were the darkest blue, like a stormy sea. He’d never seen those eyes before. Her face had never been so unreadable. He felt a twinge of fear, like he was caught in a sniper’s scope.

“I can’t do this every morning, Frank. I can’t always be waiting for you to leave, convincing you to stay.” 

He cringed. She crushed him. He hated himself for making her feel this way. 

“You won’t. I’m sorry. I’m here- I’m with you.” He caressed her with his knuckles, stroked her hair, seeking some way to make amends.

The wariness in her eyes broke his heart. What could he say?

“I love you.”

Karen’s eyes went wide in shock. 

“ _I love you_ , Karen.” He insisted, growling at her in a voice usually reserved for his enemies. He needed her to believe him. “Maybe this isn’t the right time, or the right way to say it- and I have no goddamn idea what comes next- but I love you. I’m yours.”

Her eyes started filling up, her lip trembled. He couldn’t handle the sight. He kissed her. In less than a breath she opened up to him. She made the sweetest little desperate noise, and Frank’s heart flooded with relief. She believed him. _She still wanted him._ He hadn’t ruined the one good thing in his life...

They broke apart breathing heavy, and Frank’s hand instantly rose to her face, wanting to erase the tears there. Karen pressed his hand to her cheek, locked their fingers together.

“I love you.” She breathed, so soft.

It hit him like a flashbang. His vision swam for a second, there was a ringing in his ears. 

He must have been staring at her like a stunned idiot, because she her face finally broke into a small smile. She moved his hand from her cheek to her bare chest, over her heart. 

“I love you, Frank Castle.” And she kissed him.

_Holy…_

If Frank had felt relieved before this… His entire body roared with elation now. 

_She loved him._

Frank lost himself in their kiss. He feasted on this moment, on this feeling, on her. There was still so much more to say- but not now. This wasn’t a time for talking. He kissed her over and over again, languidly, heavily, savoring every second. Karen was sighing against his lips, her hands slowly caressing every inch of him, leaving little trails of healing heat everywhere she touched. 

Then he was on top of her again, not even knowing how he got there. He was between her thighs, his favorite place in the world. There was no urgency as he entered her, no frenzy of lust. This was different. This was comfort and completion and reverence. This was love.

Frank buried his face in her neck, needing to get closer, his entire body straining against her, pressing like he wanted to disappear inside her. He was needy and unashamed. Karen must have felt the same way. She was everywhere, wrapped around him so tight. Clinging to him, not allowing an inch of separation. She dug into his hair and her mouth was pressed close to his ear so he could hear every small whimper, every sigh. And then she moaned his name.

“ _Frank…_ ”

And it hit him like it had never hit him before. He didn’t feel that surge of adrenaline, the animal instinct that usually took over. Frank felt something new. A wave of pure joy rolled through his entire body. His soul too. Frank leaned up, making just enough space so that he could look her in the eyes. He called her name back.

“ _Karen._ ”

She moaned and held him even tighter. Suddenly they were both ready, both almost overcome. Frank pressed his forehead to hers as he sped up, and the feeling of it was so sweet it made him ache. Because they were Frank and Karen, and they’d always been able to connect like this- but now it was so much more, so much better. 

He was chanting her name, she was breathing his name right back. And they chased each other to that cliff and drove off together, enjoying the fall like they were invincible. 

_Karen..._

 

They lingered in the glow afterward for a long time, just touching, and watching each other breathe, occasionally breaking the silence and actually using words to communicate. It was wonderful. It was _right._ Frank couldn’t believe how light he could feel, how playful they could be with each other. He even found a few spots on her that were ticklish. And, to his chagrin, she found some spots on him as well. 

They spent the entire day like this. Laughing and talking and making love. They took a shower together, and somehow Frank felt dirtier when he came out than when he’d gotten in. Dirty in the best way possible. 

When they got hungry, he cooked for them. She had all of the ingredients to make his grandma’s spaghetti sauce- she made it all the time now. Luckily, she also had everything he needed to make some meatballs. Karen watched him as he cooked, staring at him with those heated, mischievous eyes in a way that almost made him abandon the kitchen and take her back to bed. She was so impressed with his cooking that it made him blush, his ego purring under her praise. 

Once their bellies were full, they were hungry for each other again. This was the best day he’d had in- _god_ … years. 

 

Later in the evening, Karen came out of the bathroom to find Frank, fully dressed in his tactical gear, putting on his jacket. Her reaction was instant. She looked nervous.

He didn’t let that last for even a second. He crossed the room to her, threading his hand into her hair.

“I’ll be right back, Sweetheart. I gotta go get some things, civilian clothes for starters.” 

“Ok.” She breathed, clearly relieved, but still a little on edge. 

Frank hated that. He wanted her relaxed, smiling. 

“I mean, the camera died, so I’ll be needing to keep an eye on you in person from now on.”

She fought back a smile.

“I was thinking I could help you out with your yoga. Give you a few pointers.” He grinned at her.

She burst into a smile. A smile so big it made her eyes all squinty and cute. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” His thumb brushed her jaw. “There's a few positions I think we could work on.”

Karen laughed.

And her laughter was the best sound in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! As usual with Kastle stuff- I had a blast writing it and I'm hoping you enjoyed it just as much as I did:) 
> 
> Thanks again and again!!


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